Beast Tamer
by snowflake-eyes3216
Summary: Two boys grow up together, their relationship similar to brothers. However, a horrible occurance separates them. What will happen when they are reunited?
1. Prologue: Reminiscing

**Authoring note: **This is an alternate universe story, but a complete alternate universe. Here, the boy-who-lived never existed. Please tell me what you think of this. I love getting feedback, both good and bad.

**Warnings: **This is a slash story. There will be boy-on-boy action, just not yet. There must be a build up right? Else, there would not be much of a story.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of these characters; they belong to J.K. Rowling. I am just using them to express my imagination.

**Prologue: Reminiscing**

~Draco~

I look out the window and sigh. The weather is meek and gloomy, matching my mood. Oh, but let us not forget my grief and frustration. I am the young Lord Malfoy, head of the Malfoy family after my father's untimely death. Now I have to deal with everything that comes with the title: managing the family accounts, overseeing the manor, dealing with the staff of the manor and grounds. This is just what a sixteen year old needs; the responsibilities of an adult without actually being an adult.

I glance at the gardens, situated right next to the manor. The section I can see from this vantage is the one with the roses. They are arranged by four sections in a square, each side a different color. In the center of the square is a fountain. It is a very beautiful fountain. It has a mother unicorn with her cult, both of them drinking from the gurgling spring that is the water aspect of the fountain. Mother sits there, dripping her fingers in the water, staring at the roses.

She hasn't been the same since Father died. She takes to stare at things for long periods of time, not seeing it or her surroundings. Losing him is taking its toll on her. They loved each other, like brother and sister, but they weren't _in love_. Their families were very close so they basically grew up together. Their marriage was an arranged one, like most pureblood marriages. It's a good thing they hadn't made an arrangement for me yet. That would definitely lead to awkward complications due to my, uh, orientation. But I digress.

Looking out further, passed the garden, is the 'wild' grounds. This consists of a variety of different landscapes, all following together perfectly. There is an expansive forest that melds into a marsh on one side and rolling fields on the other. In the fields is a large lake that is almost like a loch in size and the bottom is fathoms below the surface. The far side of the fields is a dry terrain that leads into a rocky mountainside with many volleys and caves. The mountains slowly disintegrate with a magnificent waterfall. The river then meanders through the gentling slope as trees appear and then thicken as the river hits the swamp. It was all very magical and harmonious.

Of course I cannot see all of this from the window. The grounds are vast, spreading out for many kilos around the manor. Also, the grounds were magicked into their current state. It was done centuries ago by Taurus Malfoy. This is the Malfoy line's ancestral home, so of course a Malfoy created the grounds. My window facing south, so the current piece I can see is the forest.

At this moment, a thestral makes its presence known by flying above the canopy of trees, circling for a minute, and then plunging back into the darkness beneath. Did I mention good old Taurus' obsession with magical beasts? That is the reason for the sprawling, magically-enhanced land surrounding the manor. So, over the years, different generations brought new species to the grounds. Now, there are more species than I count. Though, there is a record of all the animals every brought here; I think it is the beast tamer's cottage.

Besides all the magically creatures, normal animals also inhabit the grounds. Some like horses, wolves, alligators, squirrels, rabbits … rabbits. That brings a fond memory from my childhood …

_ I was bored, really really bored. Mummy said to go play in the gardens, but the gardens are so bland. It's just flowers, flowers, and more flowers. And flowers are boring if you are a boy. I look out passed the beds. I could see where the forest and the fields met. Daddy said not to leave the garden, that it is dangerous out beyond it. Daddy and Mummy say it is safe in the garden._

_ Right on the fringe of the forest is a cabin. Funny, I never noticed the cabin before. It looks like it's very old. I wonder who lives there._

_ Just as I thought this, a boy exits the cabin, holding a small cage with something furry in it. The boy looks my age. He is rather small, with messy black hair. My blond hair is always nice and neat because Mummy says I must always be nice and neat. But that boy looks happy being messy._

_ He walks across the grass, coming closer to the garden. He stops about fifteen feet from me, appearing to not see me. He sits down on the grass and reaches inside the cage, pulling one of the furry things out because there is more than one in there. I can't help it. I'm curious, so I leave the garden and head towards the strange boy._

_ He looks up when I am five feet from him. He has the greenest eyes I have every seen. The boy stares at me for awhile, holding the furry thing to his chest protectively. He then glances between me and the manor behind me. I see his unease and want to make it go away. I smile at him._

_ "Hi!" I say. "My name is Draco. I've never seen you here before. What's your name?"_

_ "I'm Harry," he nervously answers._

_ "It's a pleasure to meet you Harry. Where do you live? Are you magical? What's that you're holding? It looks cute and fluffy. Is it a magically creature? Is it dang-"_

_ My prattling is cut off by a hand covering my mouth. The hand is Harry's. He giggles slightly at me, his eye shining bright. "Do you ever stop talking?" he asks. I close my mouth beneath his hand and look down at my lap. "It's ok," he says, "It's just that you're asking so many questions so quickly that I cannot answer them." He smiles and removes his hand._

_ "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was just really curious and excited to meet you. I want to know everything about you."_

_ "Really? Well, ok. What would you like to know first?"_

_ "Are you magical? I mean, are you a wizard?"_

_ "Yes, I am."_

_ "Me too! Where do you live?"_

_ "I live in the cabin on the edge of the forest. It's protected by heavy wards. I don't know what those are, but Papa says we are safe from all danger."_

_ "My daddy says the same about the manor. What does your daddy do?"_

_ "He is the beast tamer for the grounds. He and Mama take care of all the creatures here on the grounds."_

_ "That's amazing. Sooo, what's that in your hand?"_

_ "This?" he says, looking down at the furry thing. He smiles sweetly at it. "This is Peter. He is a rabbit."_

_ "Is he magical?" I ask shyly, uncertain if the thing will hurt me._

_ "No," Harry reassures, "he is not magical nor dangerous. He just hops around and likes to be held. Would you like to hold Jennifer?"_

_ "Yes, where is she?" I look around and see the cage with a rabbit still in it. "Is this her?"_

_ "Yes, just open the cage and gently pull her out."_

_ I do as Harry says. Jennifer is super soft and very warm in my hand. I pull her to my chest just like Harry has Peter. I am startled by the emotions I feel for the rabbit in my hands. I look up into Harry's green eyes, sharing my amazement._

_ He smiles and asks, "Would you like to help me take care of them?"_

_ "I would like nothing better."_

_ For the rest of the afternoon, we play with the rabbits letting them hop around us. They are so much fun. Harry is so good with animals. I can see it in the way he knows exactly what Peter and Jennifer need. During this time, I feel so close to Harry that I never want to let him go._

_ I stare at him as he watches the rabbits play together. "Harry?"_

_ He brings his eyes to mine. "Yes Draco?"_

_ "Will you be my best friend?" I can see shock on his face and he doesn't answer for a while. "It's just that I've never had a friend before and I really had fun with-"_

_ I am cut off again by Harry covering my mouth. His eyes shine with amusement, and there's a huge smile on his face._

_ "Yes, Draco, I would love to be your best friend." …_

I smile wistfully at the memory. Harry was the greatest best friend to me. We were nearly inseparable during those years. He had such a connection to animals. Harry showed me many creatures as we grew up. I think he wanted to follow his parents' footsteps and become a beast tamer. Already, he could influence some of the more dangerous creatures not to attack us.

Unfortunately for Father, he did not possess that same talent with animals. He was walking in forest, barely meters from the edge, when a chimaera cornered him. He tried to escape it, tried to stun it, tried to restrain it, but it was all for not. He was killed within minutes. Though the current beast tamer and I were nearby, there was nothing either could do to help Father. He was killed right in front of me.

Another memory pops up, though not as happy as the previous, this one from when I was eight years old …

_ I race down the hall, eager to meet Harry at our spot. We spend almost every day with each other since that day we met. I am not paying attention and I collide with Father's legs. We fall to the ground, me on top of him. Father sits up, gently placing me on my feet as he does. _

_ "Pray tell, where is my little Dragon flying to so fast?" he asked with a raised pale eyebrow. I smile sheepishly at Father, and then duck my head. "Oh, shall it be that way then?" he inquires. His face shifts into a mischievous smile. "I will need to change my tactics to obtain this information."_

_That is the only warning I received. The next minute I am helpless under Father's tickling. Soon I am breathless, struggling to escape his hands. "Ok, Ok, I surrender, I surrender, Father. Please release me, I beg of you! I will tell you anything."_

_"Good," he stops tickling me but does not let me go. "I will graciously release you if you tell me where you are going."_

_"I will do what so ever you wish, Father. I am meeting Harry on the grass. We are going to hang out all day. First thing we shall do is feed the grindylows with his parents."_

_"Of course, the Potters' boy. You know, Draconis, a Malfoy should not, as you said, 'hang out' with one of the staff. It is beneath you."_

_"But Harry is my best friend, Father. He has been like a brother since I met him four years ago."_

_"Well," he hesitates here, looking at me sadly, "there was an accident earlier this morning. I was actually looking for you to inform you of it when you collided with me."_

_I am instantly apprehensive. "OK, what happened?"_

_"I am sorry my Dragon, but I must be blunt with this, since this is not something that can be sugar-coated. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were attacked and pronounced death this morning. I pulled the memory from Harry, as he was the only one to witness the accident. The Potters had just left their cabin when the attack happened. Four acromantulas rushed towards them from the forest. Mrs. Potter, I saw in the memory, had a calculating expression on her face for a second as the spiders quickly advanced. After a glance to her husband, she turned her back to the acromantulas and pushed the boy back onto the porch, under the protection of the wards. I heard Mr. Potter yell over his shoulder for the boy stay on the porch no matter what. The next second, the spiders were upon them. In less than a minute, Mr. and Mrs. Potter were being dragged away, back to the acromantulas' colony, and though their child was screaming his heart out and reaching out towards them, he stayed right on the porch, safe and protected, right as directed by his father."_

_"Oh, Merlin," I weep out, tears streaming down my face. "I have to go to Harry. He needs me right now."_

_"No, you cannot Draconis."_

_"Why not? I need to comfort him. We are brothers in all but blood. I will be the one he wants comfort from. You cannot keep me from him"_

_"Draco, it is not me that keeps you apart. Harry is not here. He could not stay here now that his parents are dead. He was sent to his aunt and uncle. The address was disclosed in a letter to me from Mrs. Potter. She had told me to open it in case something happened to her and her husband. There she said I was to send her son to her sister if they died. She also apparently spelled the letter to remove the address from my mind after I sent him to his relatives. The one thing I can remember is that those relatives are Muggle."_

_Harry was gone? Gone for good? Yes, it seems that Harry was truly gone from the manor, when I went to check the cabin and found it empty of his belongings. I cried for hours in the arms of Mother. She knew how much Harry meant to me, and did not berate my grief like Father did. I will remember this as the day I lost my brother of my heart …._

The day I lost my one and only best friend was the day I grew up. Never again did I act like that carefree child I was before. Father was proud; I was finally acting like a proper Malfoy heir. Mother was sad, because she saw my pain. I never acted like a child again because it was too painful. Every childish act of mine reminded me of Harry and I could not take it. So I stopped acting like that.

I have always wondered what happened to Harry. How did he turn out? What does he look like? Is he happy? There is a question I do not want to ask because I do not think I can handle the answer: does Harry miss me as much as I miss him?


	2. Chapter 1: Tortured Heart

**Author's note: **I was going to wait a little longer before posting this, but I just could not wait any longer. I really want to share this story with everyone.I wanted to thank everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed this; it means a lot to me. Here is the next chapter.

**Chapter 1: Tortured Heart**

Four years later

~Draco~

I wake up to loud banging on my bedroom door. I blurrily open one of my eyes. I can see bright sunshine sneakily peaking out from under the heavy drapes across the windows. I do not want to get up. Today is not a day I want to face. Maybe if I'm quiet, she will go away and I can go back to sleep.

That plan seems successful for all of a minute. Then the angry shouting starts. She must have broken through the silencing charms against voices on the door. I apparently need to cast stronger ones one my door.

"DRACONIS LUCIUS MALFOY! I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE, PRETENDING TO BE ASLEEP! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO AVOID THIS PARTY! YOU HAD BETTER OPEN THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT! SO HELP ME, IF I HAVE TO REMOVE THESE WARDS, YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUNCES!"

That woman has a pair of lungs, I'll give her that. It seems to be four o'clock because that is when she was coming to make sure I was getting ready for the 'party'. This party she planned had been the bane of my existence for the last two weeks. I did not, under any uncertain terms, want to attend, even if I will be the guest of honor.

The next minute there was a bang, followed shortly by the sounds of splintering wood. Apparently my time allotted to letting her in was over and down with. Now, standing in the middle of my bedroom, was my dear friend Pansy Zabini neé Parkinson. I met Pansy at Hogwarts, both of us in Slytherin. I'm not sure what she saw in Blaise to marry him, but she is happy. That happiness made her lay off my lack of a love life, at least for a while. Then Pansy decided I needed an intervention. Supposedly, I am too serious, acting twice my age (I got a cuff to the head when I said that I was just acting like the adult I should be). So she started 'spicing up my life'. The latest transgression is my twentieth birthday party.

It is a virtual nightmare. She has commandeered the ballroom in the East wing, the largest ballroom at the size of a Muggle high school cafeteria (I know, shocking that I know what a Muggle high school cafeteria is and looks like). Over these two weeks, she has transformed it to a dance club. There is a long bar running along one side of the room, with an assortment of tables and chairs on the two sides adjacent to the bar. Across from the bar, there is a stage about five feet off the ground. The center of the room is cleared as a dance floor. Three circular daises about a foot tall are dispersed out on the floor to add some flare to the dancing. Lights of vibrant colors shot through the room like spells. The walls are transformed from their normal, elegant paint job to mirrors. That seems to be a bit over the top already, but Pansy goes even further: every mirror is shattered into pieces no bigger than a galleon in size. This give the 'club' a crazy, erratic feel as the lights are refracted on every piece, creating a kaleidoscope effect.

Pansy is glaring at me, practically burning holes into me. I see her draw in a breath; I wait to see what she shall do.

"Dray," she drawls, sickly sweet, and I know instantly that I am in deep trouble, "Please get out of bed for me."

Never trust a Slytherin acting sweet and innocent. They are up to no good. However, you better do as they ask because they will turn nasty in half a second. That is why I push the covers back and get out of the comfy heaven of my king-size bed. I stand up and stretch, feeling the snug cotton of my boxer briefs shift as my muscles move underneath them.

"Come stand in front of me Dray."

I slink on my long legs to stand before her. Instantly, I am immobilized and Pansy's is stretched into an evil smirk.

"Thank you, Drakie. Now I can help get you ready for your big, amazing party!" She ends this speech with a large Cheshire smile that has fallen off the cheerful scale and onto the creepy scale.

This is my punishment for ignoring her and her wonderful party. Pansy is going to dress me. Great. Now I will look like a man-whore.

"Let's make you irresistible, shall we?"

Four hours later I am deemed ready for the party. Alright, so maybe I don't look like a man-whore; I look like a slut. I have on black leather pants so tight they appear to be painted on and so low that my hip bones jut out above them. As if that is no bad enough, they lace up the entire side, meaning there is a two inch strip of exposed skin on the outside of each leg. The 'pants' are then tucked into my dragon-hide calf-high boots, the only normal thing I am wearing. Next on the list for discussion is my 'top'. It is a shrunken black vest. It barely covers anything. It stops above my belly button, leaving my dragon belly button piercing and my pale blond happy trait visible for all. The straps narrow to those of a tank top, exposing both of my tattoos.

Yes, I know, shocker. The respectable Lord Malfoy has tattoos, in the plural sense. One was a not well thought out. That one resides on my left forearm. It is a snake slithering out of the mouth of a skull. It was an identifier for a cult. I will willingly admit that I was a part of an elitist group. The motto was 'Pureblood is the only blood'. I only lasted two months before I was kicked out by the leader, Theo Nott, because I was not devoted enough to the cause. I never really wanted in, so it was fine when I got the boot. However, the tattoo cannot be removed, so I am stuck with the reminder of my stupidity and my gullibility. The other tattoo is on my right shoulder. It is another snake, but this one wraps around my upper bicep, ending with its fangs spread at the base of my neck. I love this one because it reminds me of the dangers of life. Life is fragile and can be taken in seconds. This snake is jet black with vivid green eyes.

My eyes are rimmed in black liner. I did win one victory over Pansy: I am not wearing eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, or any form of glitter. I drew the line there. My hair is down, flowing over my shoulders and reaching the base of my rib cage. It is styled into a bed head fashion, tussled every which way. I never where my hair down nor messy; this feels so very unnatural to me. The finishing touches are the Malfoy crest ring on my left middle finger, my emerald ring on my right ring finger, and the pentagram necklace hanging in the opening of my vest.

Yep, definitely a slut.

"Now, I have to go let in the guests." She then gives me a knowing smirk. "Do not think you can change clothes the minute I am gone; I put a charm on them that prevents you from removing yourself."

I give her a death glare. This underhanded move is very Slytherin. I unfortunately have to give her that and I grudgingly admit that I approve of its Slytherin qualities.

"The mood needs to be set before you make your grand entrance, so wait an hour before coming down. Come to the north door, it opens to the backstage area. I will be waiting there and then I will announce you to all the lovely men on the dance floor. Maybe you shall find Mr. Right out on the dance floor." She gives me a cheeky wink and exits my bedroom.

I do not want to find Mr. Right here. This party is basically full of miserable men desperate for a lay, willing to go anywhere to get it. She does not know that I know, but I followed her and saw her pass out invitations to all men at three different gay Wizarding clubs. I am hurt that she thinks I will fall for someone here. I want to fall in love naturally, not through a set-up. I am not even sure I ever want to fall in love, actually.

I am wary of love. All it does is hurt me, leaving large, gaping wholes in my heart. I loved my brother in all but blood, and I have never gotten over the pain of losing him. I loved my father, and his death haunts me even if his spirit does not. I felt like I was slowly and steadily falling for Lucas, but he was violently ripped from me before I could know for sure.

Lucas, oh, my beautiful Lucas. He worked as my beast tamer for a little over a year. He was the antithesis of me; where I was light, he was dark. His ebony skin was flawless and a striking contrast to my pale ivory. He had started working for me, two years ago. I thought he was beautiful, though not really my type. He was broad, muscular, and well toned. I covertly watched him for six months; his every move oozed strength and power. I remember when Lucas first showed interest in me …

_I sit at the table on the patio in the center of the southern garden. I am having tea with Lucas as he gives me his weekly report on the creatures. He tells me of a confrontation between a griffin and a nesting hippogriff. He is making these exaggerated facial expressions to go with the story. I really have a dirty mind because I am trying to guess if he would be this expressive during sex. He is also gesticulating with every word. Each movement expels power; I find power very attractive in a man. _

_Needless to say I am not listening to a word Lucas says. When he pauses in speech to lift his tea, I try to appear interested and engaged in what he was saying. That flies out the metaphorical window when Lucas starts to sip his tea. Sip does not describe the obscene action that he does. He hollows his cheeks and sucks the whole sup down in one go. I am mesmerized by the innuendo of this act. I cannot tear my eyes away for the man across from me._

_"So," he says as he smirks at me, "if you are done undressing me with your eyes, would you care to come to my cabin to undress me for real?" …_

What ensued was a whirl-whim relationship. It had started as purely physical, resulting in many escapades of aggressive sex. About three months into our relationship we both realized we wanted something more. So, in essence, we began actually dating then. It was an amazing four months. I started to feel like I could spend the rest of my live with him. But, as my previous luck with love would show, it was not meant to be. I remember clearly the day it all ended. …

_"Where is he?" I say to the empty air under our tree. It is one of the few trees on the rolling fields, near the edge close to the manor. It is also the location of our very first date. That was a sweet picnic consisting of lazing in the afternoon sun, watching the butterflies flutter by. We meet here for most of our dates._

_Today is another date; we are going horse back riding across the fields. I have the horses saddled and tied to the tree, waiting for him. For the past two hours._

_I finally give up after three hours. I assume there must have been an emergency with some creature or other that he had to deal with. But he could have sent a patronus to tell me; it would have been the polite thing to do._

_So I return the horses to the barn, unsaddling and brushing them down. I decide to go to Lucas' cottage. If he is there, then he can explain himself. If he is not, then I will just wait inside for him._

_As I walk through the forest on the path to his cabin, I smell something rank. It smells foul, metallic, and earthy. It triggers a memory: my father's death. I realize I smell clotting blood mixed in with the decomposing leaves. I run, following the smell. I come to a clearing along the path and my heart breaks._

_Scattered around the clearing is what I can only assume is Lucas. He has been ripped apart, completely gutted. Blood drenched everything: the ground, the bushes, what I guess used to be his clothes, his body parts, the roses. It seems he had a bouquet of white roses with him when whatever creature attacked him. He was coming to me when he was killed. …_

That is the image that still sticks the most in my mind. The roses had an abhorrent beauty to them. The dark red of the blood stood out so piercingly against the perfect white of the flowers. The roses made the whole scene surreal, at least in my mind. They were everywhere; some were still whole while others had been reduced to petals, fluttering occasionally in the wind. Everything covered in blood.

On that day, the garden no longer contained white roses. On that day, I bewitched the white rose bushes to bloom black flowers. On that day, I decided to protect my heart from love because love hurt too much.

As I come out of my musing, I realize a great deal of time has passed. A quick _Tempus _charm tells me that it is time for me to head down to Pansy's torture exercise masquerading as a party. I do not want to go because the men I have loved and lost are not there.


	3. Chapter 2: The Dragon Master

Chapter 2: The Dragon Master

~Pansy~

I worry about him. He hides. Everything. Not just from people, like being in isolation, but also his emotions. Blaise and I are the only people with whom he is connected. Or sociable for that matter. When he is out in the world, the Malfoy mask is firmly in place, and nothing can remove it. He did not use to be this bad.

When I first met him nine years ago, he was reserved and respectful, like the heir to any wealthy family should be. He held himself away from everyone. It was not until second year that Draco let me and Blaise become his friends, and then close friends. Up to that point, he did not have any close friends, or even friends now that I think about it. He still does not have other close friends; however, he does have a few friends. I know he is lonely, but I do not know how to help him.

That is why I planned this party the way I did. The ballroom is crawling with horny, gay men looking for a shag. The air is so thick with bodies that the heat pulses with the beat of the music. He most definitely is not the clubbing type: too many people with their motives unknown and unclear. My hope is that he will find someone to at least share the night with, to scare away the loneliness of the dark hours of the night.

I did invite Draco's actual friends as well, because I am not the complete bitch like the world sees me. Millicent, Vincent, Gregory, Daphne, and Blaise are all sitting at table in the back of the ballroom. The men look mildly uncomfortable; that is understandable seeing as all three of them are straight. Millie's and Daphne's vision is glued to the dance floor, watching the gorgeous men grind against one another. There are full drinks in their hands and an army of empty glasses amassed on the tabletop. At least they seem to be enjoying something in this party.

Blaise looks over at me, and winks when our eyes meet. I can tell he is tipsy, well on the way to being drunk. I love him so much; he puts up with all my crap. I really want to make him happy. I cannot wait to tell him the news, but I do not know how he will react. We have talked about it as a possibility, but not for a couple years. This took me completely by surprise; I thought we were being careful, but apparently not careful enough.

I am pulled from my mental ramblings by Blaise wiggling his fingers at me. I cock my eyebrow at him, and he smirks, knowing he has my attention. He then taps his wrist and points to the stage. I understand immediately what he is communicating: time to announce Draco. I slowly begin to make my way through the throng of bodies toward the stage.

~Blaise~

I watch my beautiful flower make her way to the stage. I love her with all my heart. We have been friends since we were little, and I have loved her just as long. I was secretly possessive when we started school. I thought Draco as a threat when he became our friend. That thought ended two years later when he told us he was gay. I was so relieved because I could never stand a chance against his beauty.

I am still possessive, getting jealous at any man who makes eyes at my Pansy, even with the ring on her finger. This is the only place where I can be relaxed without her constantly by my side. No man is lustfully watching her in that short, sliver, glittery dress. No man is transfixed by the sway of her hips in those ridiculously high heels she wears. No man is even sparing her a glance as she strolls to the stage. Gay men have no interest in the female body. And that makes me very happy.

She disappears behind a door at the foot of the stage. Moments later the music cuts off. The light show stops and a spot light appears at the side of the stage. Pansy steps into the light and walks to the center of the stage, the light moving with her. She waits for it to be quiet, but it seems like the partygoers are oblivious to her. That is stupid: who could possibly miss my flower with her dress positively shining like a diamond in that spotlight. She loudly clears her throat, reminding me of that vile Ministry woman we had as a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher fifth year.

"Thank you," she says with a meaningful glare as the crowd finally quiets down. "Now that I have your attention, I have an announcement to make. Well, I suppose it is more like an introduction." Her eyes glance to the wings of the stage. "As you should very well know, this is a celebration of the birth of a special individual. He's dashing; he's handsome. He's witty; he's snarky. He's influential; he's rich. He's the great Draco Malfoy, Lord of this manor!"

At this, the crowd erupts into cheers, and Draco walks out into his own spotlight. He scowls at the gathered men, peering down his nose at them. He then walks over to Pansy and give her a look that clearly says 'get on with this'.

"And now the party can really start!" She waves her wand and stairs appear off stage to the dance floor. "Off you go, my dear, join your party."

Draco sends her a death glare, then proceeds down the stairs as the music begins again. He does not look happy to walk into the throng of dancing men. I hope he can forgive us for subjecting him to this

~Draco~

I hate her. I mean, I do not actually hate her completely, but right now she is on the top of my hate list, above Divination. How could she subject me to that? I was groped by over a dozen different men. Not to mention, I was ground on by most of the dance floor. The grossest thing is I can feel their sweat on my skin because of my lack of clothing on my torso.

It takes me twenty minutes to fight my way to the back of the ballroom. There I can see my "friends" sitting at one of the tables. I partially enjoy their company, but I am not really close to any of them; they are my fellow Slytherins. I spy Millicent, Gregory, Daphne, Vincent, Blaise, and Pansy. I am glad Millie and Greg finally got engaged; they are the perfect couple. Vincent is not interested in anyone that I know of, however he seems happy with that. Daphne, on the other hand, is married to some Hufflepuff; true to her personality, she is the controlling one in that relationship. I sit down at the table, just enough pause in their conversation to greet me.

Millie is lamenting on about a Doxy problem in their hedge maze. This is apparently a big deal because Millie is concerned for their child's safety. Good heavens, she is pregnant, already. That was sure quick. I wonder if that is the reason Greg finally found the courage to pop the question. She goes on and on about how it is a large infestation, covering the whole two acres of the maze.

"Who did you hire to handle it?" I ask, "There are few people who could take care of that." I am genially curious. I am in need of a new beast tamer; someone who can handle that large of infestation could be valuable to me.

"Do not fret, Draco, Greggie hired the best. Didn't you, dearest?" Millie responds, looking at Greg meaningfully. Greg enthusiastically nods his head. "He hired The Dragon Master."

"The Dragon Master?" I cock my head, confused. "Who is this Dragon Master?"

Daphne answers, "How could you not know, Draco. Everyone has heard the rumors of the Dragon Master. He is the greatest handler of magical creatures. I have heard he subdued a Hungarian Horntail while neither injuring himself nor the dragon."

Vincent contributes, "I heard he is friendly with many tribes of merpeople and even rescued a wizard from their clutches."

"I have heard that he is ridden a unicorn." Blaise adds with respect glazng over his drunken eyes. "No one can ride them."

"That's a myth." Pansy says while smacking Blaise's arm. "I hear he is a magnificent flier. He can fly anything: hippogriff, thestral, even a dragon. However, I hear he is the best on a broom. Supposedly, he played as the reserve Seeker for the Bulgarian team for three seasons, actually playing starting when Krum had his major accident."

This man sounds too good to be true. However, he may be just what I need. He does not seem like the person to turn tail at the first sign of danger. I hired many of those people over the last year. Each was fine for a few weeks, and then I would suddenly get a letter of resignation, stating they fear their life is in danger. The last one quit because, and I quote, 'The hippogriffs were giving me the evil eye; I fear they have it out for me'. Coward. My thoughts are if you are afraid of danger, find a different career.

"When is he coming?" I ask Millie. I need to meet with this miracle man.

"Next Wednesday. Would you like to meet him? I think he would be perfect for your beast tamer."

She is so perceptive. She knew exactly what I was after the second I asked. This is why I both love and hate having Slytherin friends: they are just as crafty and cunning as I am.

We settle out the details over another round of drinks. I cast a quick _Tempus_ charm to see if it is socially acceptable for me to leave the party. An hour has passed. That is plenty of time for me to be here. I make my exit from the table. Apparently, I also need to say good night to my "guests", as Pansy so helpfully reminds me.

I walk up to the center of the stage. The music cuts off again and I am now in a spotlight. I decide to have some fun with this announcement.

"Good evening, everyone. I very much enjoyed having you all here with me tonight. However, I am very worn out, so I am retiring to my chambers. You are free to continue partying without me. Just be warned, the wards will throw everyone not of Malfoy blood out at midnight, so I suggest that you all be gone by then. Have a wonderful time."

I wave, smiling evilly, and exit the stage through the wings. It is currently ten thirty. They have less than two hours to get off my property. I just love being an evil bastard sometimes.

~Harry~

(_parseltongue)_

I stand watching the Northern Lights from outside the igloo. It is so beautiful here, so crisp, so pure. Everything is so simple here. I hear a rustling in the snow. I turn and see Frost, my beautiful ice snake, slithering towards me. I reach down my arm for her to crawl up, and she settles around my neck.

_ I wish we could stay here forever, _I whisper to her. _Life is less complicated out here on the ice sheets._

_ Yes, it is, Sweet One, but this is not your home, _she hisses back at me. _You belong with other two-legged creatures. Besides, you have a job in two days on that island you have avoided for five years, no nine years when you count your school time as well, ten if you count the year before school._

_ Yeah, yeah, I know. You are right, of course. Whatever would I do without your incredible knowledge? _I wittily reply.

_ Die of boredom, I presume._


	4. Chapter 3: The Preposition

**Author's note:** I love the positive feedback I am getting for this. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed/followed/favorited this story. When I was first writing this, I was not sure anyone would like it. Also, I should be doing other things, like getting ready for my class, but I wanted to get this up for you guys. So here it is, enjoy =)

**Bold=letter**

Chapter 3: The Preposition

~Draco~

Here I am, waiting in the main parlor of Goyle Manor. Millie and Greg are also in the room, all of us enjoying some tea. I check my pocket watch for the twentieth time. The time is one minute later than the last time I checked. Would it be too much to ask for time to move faster?

The man Greg hired, the "Dragon Master" is coming today. In five minutes. On Monday I decided to offer this man the position of beast tamer on my estate. From what I have gathered about him, this job will be more suited to his persona than the odd jobs he does now.

After what seems like forever, I finally here the grandfather clock strike two, the bongs reverberating down the hall from the entryway. A second later, an elf appears and states that there is a man at the edge of the grounds.

"He says Master is be paying for him here," the elf squeaked to Greg.

"Bring him in, then, Pippa," Greg orders to the elf.

In another moment, the elf is gone. I try to calm myself and organize my game plan. I decide to be as aloof and arrogant as the nobleman I am. He will be here in a matter of seconds.

~Harry~

I stand, looking at the gate on the drive. What an opulent gate. True, it is magnificent and beautiful, with sweeping swirls and flowers of rot iron, but it seems too much for a simple gate. What is it with the wealthy and not understand when enough is enough? They just do not seem to understand that sometimes the simplest things are better. This reminds me of a memory from my childhood; back when I was happy, before all hell broke loose …

_ I sit waiting on the rock for Draco. Today we are going to go looking for magical herbs in the forest. Of course we are not going alone, my mama is coming too. Since we do not have wands and do not know how to control our magic, an adult must be with us because it is not safe. So I'm waiting for him at our rock._

_ I start playing with some smaller rocks to pass the time. I accidentally turn one of the rocks purple. Then I start trying to turn the rocks different colors as I throw them around. This is how Draco finds me, juggling rainbow rocks._

_ "How are they colored?" he asked in amazement._

_ "Don't look so impressed. It was an accident," I answer. "I have no idea how I did it or if I could teach you how."_

_ I stop juggling and put the rocks back. I then look up Draco, since because I am sitting, he towers over me. I do a double take and really look at his clothes. He is wearing what looks like dress slacks, a silk button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a vest on top.x "What are you wearing?"_

_ "What?" He looks down at himself, confused. "These are my gardening clothes. Are we not going to go look for plants?"_

_ I shake my head at him. "No, Draco, we are not doing anything similar to gardening in the gardens. We are going into the woods. We need to wear clothes that actually protect you."_

_ He seems confused and a little forlorn when I say this. He looks so cute. "Come on, we can find you some clothes in my room." …_

The memories from that day are so sweet. Draco was amazed at the décor of the cabin which was very different from the manor. And he did wear some of my clothes, much more appropiate clothes. We had so much fun. I miss those days. I wish I could have stayed there with Draco, instead of going to my horrible excuse for relatives. I wonder how he grew up. I still dream about him, of what could have happened if we had been together.

I am brought out of my musing by the reappearance of the elf.

"Master says to bring yous in," it said, "Take Pippa's hand please."

I take the offered hand and am apparated to the entryway. The elf says, "Down the hall, second door." Then, it disapparates away with a crack.

I walk down the hall and stop in front of the second door. Now I need the courage to knock. I have never been a people person. I take a deep breath and rap my knuckles against the oak door. I hear a muffled 'come in', so I open the door and walk into the room. It is a parlor. There are three people sitting in the room. Two are on the couch, a couple, engaged since I can only see a ring on the woman's hand. They have the look that wealthy people have: the privileged, confident air, and the subtle expensive clothing. I look to the opposite chair for the other person. Sitting in it is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. His pale blond hair reflects the light to create an angelic glow around his head, which is tipped down toward the tea in his hand. His features appear to be craved from white marble: sharp, pale, smooth, flawless. Aristocracy simply oozes from his pores; he has the air of someone born high in the social hierarchy. Then he looks up, and grey eyes meet my green ones. The man is Draco.

~Draco~

I look up at the man as he stops in the center of the room. God, he is handsome. He has a strong build, muscular but lithe. His hair is inky black and styled in a messy, bedhead look. His skin is a golden tan, proof of his outdoor activities. His eyes, god, his eyes; they are a deep, rich emerald. Looking in them, you can see millions of facets of color. However, there are walls in those eyes. I can tell he is hiding secrets underneath those dazzling irises. Something about him tickles the back of my memory, but whatever it was is gone as soon as I try to focus on it.

He smiles uncomfortably and nervously runs his hand through his hair, effectively making some strands stand up on end. "Er, hello. My name is James Lupin-Black. I was hired for a creature infestation by a Mr. Goyle?" He glances between Greg and me, trying to figure out who is who.

"That would be me," Greg says as he stands and extends his hand to the man. "I am Gregory Goyle, and this is my fiancé Millicent. Also, this is our dear friend, Draco Malfoy. We are so happy you could come here so quickly. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you. The pleasure is mine," he answers, shaking Greg's offered hand. "If I recall, it is a Doxy problem you have?"

They continue their conversation, but I tune it out. Black. The oldest and noblest house of Black. It is a pureblood family. I am a Black through my mother's blood. I thought there were not any more Blacks after my mother's generation. Both of my mother's sisters married and therefore no longer carry the Black name. The only male Black still living I remember was my second cousin Sirius. However, he could not pass on his name because he, like me, preferred partners of the male gender. Last I knew before he disappeared, he was bonded to a werewolf. I wonder what the werewolf's name was. What if this man was adopted by them? Now I am really curious about this man.

"Well," the man says, standing up, "I believe it will take me about three, maybe four hours to rid the garden of the Doxies. By your leave, I will start immediately so I may be out of your hair."

"Of course," Millie answers, "But it will be rather late by then, why don't you join us for dinner?"

"I would love to." With that, he bows his head to Greg and me and exits the room.

"What a charming man," Millie comments as the door closes behind him. She then turns to look expectantly at me. "So, are you going to offer him the position, Draco darling?"

"Yes," I muse, "Yes, I am indeed."

~Harry~

Dinner was good. Again, I can see their wealth exemplified by the fanciness of the food. So much effort put on stuff that is just going to be destroyed in a matter of minutes. Now, we are sitting in a parlor, each of the males holding a glass of firewhisky. It is getting late, and I know I need to go. Frost will no doubt be worrying her mind off.

"Well, this has been more than I expected," I announce, standing up from the chair. "Thank you for the meal, but I really must get back to my girl."

Mr. Goyle rises and stakes my hand. "We are very indebted to you for making our garden safe again. Do you need a house elf to show you out?"

"That won't be necessary." I turn towards the voice and see Draco standing up. His voice has deepened to a rich baritone since I last heard it when we were children. It sends a small shiver down my spine. He walks over continuing, "I must be going as well; I can show Mr. Lupin-Black out."

"Wonderful," Mr. Goyle replies and promptly turns back to his wife, effectively ignoring us.

"Come on," Draco whispers to me stirring me towards the door with a hand on my arm, "Let's go before they start being a disgustingly affectionate couple."

"You don't need to tell me twice." I can see the lust in her eyes as Mr. Goyle walks over to her. I do not want to see whatever they plan on doing.

We walk through the hallway, in silence. We exit out the main door, continuing out down the steps and onto the drive, in silence. The evening is beautiful: the sun is setting, the breeze is gentle, and the temperature is mild. I forgot how lovely spring is in Britain. We arrive at the gate and I move to push it open. A hand on my shoulder stops me; I turn to look and see Draco glazing intently at me.

"Before you depart, I have a proposition for you," he begins. "I know from your reputation that you are wonderful with creatures, magical and muggle. I also know that you actually care for the creatures."

I make an indignant face. Most people who employ me find creatures distasteful, so I give off the same attitude in order to be hired. I try to contradict him, but he cuts me off.

"I watched you this afternoon," he says. "You did not dispose of the Doxies; you coaxed them to move off the property. I am impressed with you skills with animals. Here is where my proposition comes into play. You see, my manor is surrounded by sprawling expanses of land, filled with both magical and muggle creatures. The position of beast tamer of the grounds is open, which I am offering to you. As my beast tamer, you would care for the creatures. Also, you would never need deal with trivial jobs such as this one again. If you accept, you would live on the grounds in a heavily warded house. You would also have access to any materials you require; all you would need to do is ask. Here are the apparation coordinates for the manor. If I do not hear back from you within the week, I will assume you are not interested. Thank you for your time."

And with that, Draco pushes the gate open and apparates away. I am left standing on the drive, holding a piece of parchment with the coordinates to a place I once lived, being offered the job my parents held.

~Draco~

I get home and immediately start on a rampage. I go to one of the parlors in the North wing. The North wing is empty; it would have been for any siblings of mine if there were any. The heir would get the whole South wing, and the spares would have to share the North wing. That is how the manor is designed. Whatever, I have no siblings, so it does not matter. Now it is just an area in the manor where I can vent my anger.

I start destroying everything in the room: the furniture, the rug, the windows. I have to get my frustrations out somewhere. I just had to get my hopes up. I just had to want him. I just had to wish that he would be gay as well. I just had to dream that he would want me too.

Of course he is taken. Of course he is living with that person. Of course that person is a woman. Of course he is straight. Of course he is devoted to her. Why can't he just be what I want him to be? Now he will not definitely not want the job because he thinks I am coming on to him. Why do I do this to myself?

I collapse in on myself, falling to my knees and sobbing. I cannot believe I let him into my being so quickly. All I want to do is cry and never leave this room, letting the cold seep into my bones. I do not want to see people again. People just seem to have a way of hurting me. It will be better for my heart, my mind, my soul, if I just live in complete solitude.

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft hoot. I turn towards the sound. There, sitting on the windowsill is an owl. It is the most beautiful owl I have ever seen, with snowy white feathers and rich amber eyes. I also see a letter attached to its leg. I motion for it to come inside, and it flies to my shoulder.

I remove the letter and open it. I quickly scan the letter, then go back to the top and read through it slower. I do not believe it. It reads:

**Dear Mr. Malfoy,**

** After much consideration, I have decided to accept your offer for employment on your estate. I would like to start as soon as possible; you were correct in your assumption that this is more to my likely than 'pest control' jobs. However, it will take me a few days to get my affairs in order. Would Monday be an amiable day to start? Please send your answer back with Hedwig; she will bring it to me. Thank you immensely for this position.**

**Sincerely,**

**James Lupin-Black**

Goodness, I guess I was just overreacting. I summon a quill, ink, and parchment. I then pen a response, agreeing that Monday was wonderful. I close it with the Malfoy seal and give it to the white owl, obliviously Hedwig. She hoots softly at me, then takes flight and soars out the window.

I have a few days, and then the gorgeous man will be here. Hopefully he will not bring his 'girl', as he called her earlier. If he does, oh well. At least I get to see his beautiful physique every day now. With that thought, I stride from the destroyed room. I have a cottage I have to ensure is habitable.


	5. Chapter 4: Moving In

**Author's note:** I love each and every one of you guys who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited this story. You guys make me so happy that I just cannot help updating this as quickly as I can. Enjoy =)

Chapter 4: Moving in

~Harry~

I stand surveying my hut. It is an old fishing house, right next to a lake in the mountains of Romania. There is only one room, with a kitchen, a table, and a bed all in it. It is quant, and I loved it. Although I was never there much, it was a comforting place to be. Now, I am going back to the house I was raised in. How I will coop? I am not going back as how I was though; I am going back under my new identity, as James Lupin-Black. I have not been Harry Potter since I was ten years old.

I turn away from my hut for the last time. Next to me is my old school trunk. It seems surreal that all my belongings fit into it. Well, after the constant traveling, I guess it is not surprising that I only keep the important stuff. Like the photo album of me and my parents. My broom, the first gift from my godfather. My father's invisibility cloak. The quilt my mother made for me when I was five. The dream catcher Moony gave me when I first came to them. The two-way mirror Sirius gave me when I left for dragon training. Also, in the mess of sentimental things, there are my clothes. There is an odd assortment of those as well: my dragon-hide gear from dragon training, my Quidditch gear including the Bulgarian uniform, and my regular everyday clothes.

I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. I bring my hand up to stroke Frost. She is curled in her favorite place, around my neck with her head on my right shoulder. Her head perks up as continue to pet her.

_Are we leaving yet?_ She asks, sounding every bit like an impatient child.

_Almost, _I reply, _I just have one more thing to do._

I stick my left arm out, waiting. Hedwig drops out on the sky and gently lands on my outstretched arm. I do not have a cage for her; she is a free spirit and is free to do as she likes. I am neither her master nor her owner. She stays with me because of the kindness I give to her.

"Hello, you beautiful girl," I coo at her. "Would you please take these letters for me? I know there are two; each goes to a different place. This one is for Moony, Remus rather. And this one is for Viktor. Thank you, sweet girl." She woots at me, nips affectionately at my ear, and then flies off with the letters securely attached to her leg.

_Now, we are leaving. Prepare yourself, I know how much you hate it when I apparate. _That is the only warning before I turn on the spot and disappear with a crack.

~Draco~

I sit in a squishy armchair in the apparation room. This is the place where a person comes when they apparate to the manor. My great-grandfather created this room after his partner was attacked by a creature when he apparated to the grounds. This allows a person to apparate to a safe location inside the wards without actually being, well, inside the wards. In other words, a person is trapped in the room until a member of the family either lets the person in or keys them to the wards.

That is why I am sitting here. James is supposed to be here at ten. It is polite that I am here to greet him so he will not have to awkwardly wait for me to arrive. I will be keying him to the wards so he can apparate straight to his cabin. Him and his girl. Just the thought of someone else touching him repulses me. He is mine. I sigh heavily. I really need to get these thoughts out of my head; he is not ever going to be mine.

At that moment, I hear the crack of apparation. James now stands in the middle of the room, handing the end of a trunk. He also has an interesting white, iridescent scarf wrapped around his neck. The stark contrast between it and his hair is stunning. I stand up and walk over to him.

"Mr. Lupin-Black," I say, extending my hand towards him, "I am very pleased that you have agreed to take this position."

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." He replies as we shake hands. It is a firm, strong, and confident shake. "And, please call me James. I believe it would be more fitting seeing as I am working for you."

"Of course, James. Is this everything?" I ask, looking between the trunk and him.

"Yes, it is," he answers with a wistful smile. "When you have moved around as much as I, you tend to only keep only the things with sentimental value."

I start to lead him out of the room, but I hesitate at the door. "Is there a certain lady that will be moving in with you?" I ask, hoping he says no. However, I know he will say yes, because he said as much when he left Greg's manor last week.

"Yes, two actually," James chuckles as he looks at face, my confusion clearly written out there. "One is here and the other will return shortly." I watch him bring his hand up to stroke his scarf. "Frost, come on now sweetheart, stop being shy. Come greet Draco, the man employing me."

I watch mesmerized as the white scarf begins to move. Then it raises its head. Oh, dear Merlin, it's a snake, an ice snake. James has a deadly ice snake curled around his neck. I try to hide my fear. Of course, James, the master of creatures, has one of the magical world's most poisonous snakes as a pet. The snake turns its bright cobalt eyes on me. Those eyes are hypnotic, meant for drawing in and ensnaring prey. I give myself a slight shake, breaking the creatures spell.

"How do you do, Lady Frost," I recite, bowing minutely. I feel a little ridiculous for addressing a snake like this, but I sense it will be in my best interests to make the snake like me. I watch as the snake moves her head until her tongue tickles James' ear as she hisses into. James chuckles again. I look at him confused, for the second time in the last few minutes.

He looks at me sheepishly, rubbing a hand through his hair. "She says that anyone who treats creatures with the same respect as humans is worth working for," he blushes as he continues, "Also, she says you look rather dashing and handsome."

I am a little taken aback. James can understand snakes; he is a parselmouth. That trait has not been seen for many, many generations. "You praise warms me greatly, Lady Frost."

"Suck up," James mutters good naturedly. "Hedwig, my owl, will be returning some time either tomorrow or the following day. Is there a place she can roost?"

"Of course," I answer, happy to be back to uncomplicated questions, "there is an owlry in the manor. Also, there is a small nesting room in the attic of the cottage where you will be living." I open the door and gesture through it. "Now, if we can, I would like the pleasure of showing you said cottage where you will be residing while in my employment."

~Harry~

I stand in the entryway of the cottage. I barely manage to keep up my façade of nonchalance while Draco is showing me around. Now that he has gone back to the manor, I can drop the mask. I look around the house where I grew up, letting my memories in for the first time in many, many years. The house looks about the same, just a few additional touches from the other tamers over the past twelve years.  
I am not sure what to do with myself. I am standing here, feeling lost. I miss my parents. I really, really do. I thought I had come to accept their death, seeing as so many years have passed. But being here, where I was born, where I grew up, where they died, it all comes back like new, a tsunami of memories and emotions crashing over me. The memories want to overrun me, fill me to the brink.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and let the memories flow.

~Draco~

I quickly look out the window of my bedroom. I can just barely see the cottage from this vantage point. There is a soft glow coming from the windows. It would appear that James has lit the fireplace. Oh, how I wish I could have stayed there with him.

James Lupin-Black is an enigma to me. He was so open and cheerful as we walked through the manor and out towards the cottage. The walls were still there, hidden in his gorgeous eyes, but he let his emotions shine through. However, the second we stepped onto the porch of the cottage, he seemed to hide behind an emotionless mask. I was curious as to way that occurred.

As I showed him around, I covertly studied his face. The mask was infallible at first, but soon I saw the flaws in it. The longer we were in the cottage, the less solid the mask became. I could see cracks starting for form in it, a few stray emotions shining through. There was a flash of deep grief when I showed the master suite; sadness was in the depths of his eyes when I showed the one of the spare bedrooms. I could not understand why these emotions broke through at those times.

By the time the tour was over, I could see his mask starting to unravel around the edges. I excused myself before it could crumble completely. No matter how I longed to know what lay underneath, I respected the man too much. If he wanted to hide those things from me, I would not pry. It seems we both have secrets we share with no one. He will tell me in his own time, if he wants. I hope I gain the right to ever hear of them.

**Another note:** Unfortunately, my life just got really, really busy. I have two major essays due, a monster calculus assignment, and cleaning (my dorm room is a mess). Plus, my boyfriend decided that we are going home this weekend. So, I probably won't be able to update until Monday at the earliest. I'm really sorry to everyone.


	6. Chapter 5: The Guest

Chapter 5: The Guest

_Three Months Later_

~Draco~

After these past months, James is still a mystery to me. There are so many layers to his personality; I cannot figure out who he is. He seems to be one large mass of random facets. However, he is a very attractive mass of randomness. He has been the star in many of my sexual fantasies over the time he has been here. Oh, the things I would like to do to him, with him.

So, I have decided to try to see if he would be interested. I have executed a plan. Yesterday, after he finished his weekly report, I asked him to join me for lunch tomorrow. At he looked apprehensive. I convinced him that I wanted to get to know him better. He finally caved. I told him to meet me at noon in the rose garden.

It is now ten minutes to noon, and I am a nervous wreck. My leg bounces as I sit in the chair at the patio table; I cannot keep all of this nervous energy inside. A minute later, I can see James walking up. God, he is like sex on legs. He is wearing his dragon-hide trousers; they are skin tight, showing off his glorious leg muscles. He must have been just working with the dragons. His shirt is rather exotic. It looks it belongs in the Medieval era: cream colored muslin in a peasant blouse style, the neck loose because of the untied lacing at the collar, and tight cuffs at the end of the billowy sleeves*.

I am curious at his choice of clothing. How is he standing the heat? Summers here are notorious for being hot and humid. I study him as he continues his approach. The shirt appears to be thin and slightly see through; I then realize that is because it is soaked with sweat. Through the shirt, I can just barely make out the faint lines of a tattoo over his heart. Just as I start to theorize about what it is, James reaches me.

I motion to the other chair. He sits, and I can a house elf which delivers our lunch. We tuck in and enjoy the meal in silence, the only noise coming from the scrape of our forks. After we finish, we both recline back in our chairs with a glass of scotch in our hand.

~Harry~

I look at Draco over the rim of my glass. Now it is my turn to study him. He thinks he was so sneaky when I was walking up; however, I saw how he watched my every move. He looks stunning in the summer sun. He appears so sophisticated and put together. He is wearing a pale blue button-up shirt, the top three buttons undone and the sleeves rolled to his elbows. This exposes a tattoo on his left forearm. The ink itself is rather fascinating, but the meaning is not. He is, or was, part of the elitist cult based in England. I really hope it is past, not present, because I do not think I could measure up to those standards. Over his shirt, he has a dark, steel gray vest. That brings out the gray in his eyes, giving them a molten look. He wears loose trousers in a color two shades lighter than the vest. He is perfect; I feel like a cretin next to him.

Draco takes the rest of his drink like a shot, tilting his head back and swallowing the alcohol all in one go. He sets the glass down and turns to me. "So," he says, a slight smirk on his face, "would you care to elaborate why you are dressed like you walked out the early twelfth century?"

I look down at my attire, then look into his eyes with a sheepish smile on my face. "This is my dragon handling clothing. Well, this and the over-shirt. I was checking on the new Chinese Fireball hatchlings and lost track of time. I only had enough time to take off the over-shirt before I came here. I'm sorry, I should have changed, but I did not want to keep you waiting."

He smiles at me. "I'm not objecting; you look very, uh, dashing in it. You pull off the look well. I was just curious." Now he leers at me. "But how are you standing to wear such tight clothing in this heat?"

I caught the underlying message in his words. He had checked me out; he had appraised how my legs are wrapped in the tight hide. I smirk at him and answer, "Training was in Bulgaria. In the summer. Summers in England have nothing on summers there."

He seems a little flustered by those words. I think he is probably picturing me sweating even more than I am, and is turned on by those images. Yes, I know he is gay. I have kept up with the news here even though I avoided the country for so long. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat. "Well," he starts again, "If you don't mind, I would like to know a little bit about you. For instance, where did you go to school? You seem familiar but I cannot quite place why."

"I went to Durmstrang Institute," I answer. I am nervous, hoping Draco does not piece together who I am. I want to tell him. But not yet.

"Really?" he asks curiosity clear on his face. "I cannot detect the hint of an accent in your speech."

"Well, I was raised in England for most of my life before my school career."

"Oh, have we met before?"

"Not before schooling, no," I answer, "but we did meet in passing. I came to Hogwarts with the delegation for the Triwizard Tournament six years ago."

I can see recognition flash across his face. "Of course, you were the young one with them. All of us Slytherins were curious as to why someone that young was there. How old were you, at that time?"

"I was fourteen."

"You and I are the same age." He looks at me closely. "Why were you there?"

"Well, it's a rather long story, so I'll just give the main reason. One of the students did not want to leave me behind for that long."

~Draco~

I digest this information James has just given me. So that is why he triggered something in my memory the day we met at Greg's. Reflecting on what he just said, it seems that he probably had a relationship with one of the delegates. However, that does not give me any clues to his sexuality, because both males and females came from Durmstrang.

This does explain some about his character. Learning at Durmstrang would definitely eliminate some of a person's fear of dangerous situations. I heard tales from those inviting students of that curriculum.

James finishes his scotch, stretching after placing the glass on the table. "Well, this was a very pleasant meal, Draco. I would really like to do this again sometime, but I must go and shower. Feel free to stop by the cottage whenever you want; the door will always be open to you." He finishes with a smirk. Hidden meaning is evident in these remarks; however, I cannot trust my understanding. I am afraid that my attraction to him is clouding his meaning: I read that he wants me to spend more time with me and is giving me free reign of his house.

I smile and give him a nod. "I will keep that in mind. I wish you luck for your endeavors this afternoon."

I watch him walk away. I see the way his back muscles flex as he moves. It is a beautiful sight, but the coloring of his back seems off. It is not the same golden tan as the rest of his skin; it looks to be molted of darker shades, ranging from light brown to black. Then, I dawns on me: it is another tattoo. James has a tattoo that covers most of his back. My curiosity is peaked. I want to know what those tattoos are. Another plan starts to form in my head.

~Harry~

I enter my cottage in a daze. I cannot believe I just did that. I just implied that I wanted Draco in here, in my cottage, whenever. Part of me wants him to see the sexually meaning, the other part does not. The part that does not is the part that wants Draco to never find out that I am Harry Potter, the little boy he grew up with.

I am so deep in my own thoughts that it takes me a minute to see the hawk sitting on the back of the couch. Only one person I know sends letters with a hawk. Smiling, I go over and take the letter for it, carefully avoiding its beak and talons. I smirk when I see the name on the outside. Only one person would ever call me Jamie.

I open and read the letter. All it says is "Aren't you going to let me in?" and apparation coordinates. Of course, the letter in not in English, it is in Bulgarian. I apparate to the spot directed.

Once the world rematerializes, I am engulfed in a bone crushing hug. I hug back. It has been too long since I have seen Viktor. He pulls back to look me over. "How is my little brother doing? Liking the new job?"

He does speak English to me, heavily accented though it is, because he knows I understand it better than pure Bulgarian. I have missed him greatly. He is like my older brother.

"I am good," I say once we separate, "I love it. It suits me so well. Also, my boss and I get along really well." He gives me a knowing look. "Ok, I like him, but it's more than that. Can we finish this discussion in my cottage? I assume you will be staying a few days?"

"Of course," he answers, "and I must hear more about this man. He must be worthy of my Jamie."

I laugh as I apparate us to my cottage. I lead him into the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Once we are settled with a cup of tea, he motions for me to begin. "Well, I told you how I grew up here in England, on a large estate. How my best friend was the son of the lord of the estate, how my parents were killed working for the lord of the estate, and how I was sent to live with my …" I trail off, the pain still sharp in my chest. I feel a hand on mine and look up at Viktor.

"You left them. They have no power over you anymore. You are stronger than they are." While he says this, he is rubbing my hand, giving me silent comfort. I smile weakly at him.

"Well, you know what I was saying." I draw in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. "This was the estate. I grew up here. I grew up in this cottage on the Malfoy estate. My boss, the young Lord Draco Malfoy, is the best friend I had during those years." I look at him with sad eyes. "What am I to do, Vikie? How can I have a relationship with him when he knows both my old identity, and my new one? How will I keep him from hating me if he finds the truth? How?" I break down into tears at that point.

I hear Viktor stand up and walk around the table. Then I feel his arms around me again, and it brings me so much comfort. The smell of him calms just as much as his gentle rocking. Also, he sings the soft melody of Pilentze Pee, the song he sung to me when we were in school. I feel myself relax into his strong embrace.

I whisper, "Thank you," into his chest. I feel it vibrate as he chuckles slightly. I pull back, looking affronted at his laugh.

"You smell," he says simply. He drags me out of the chair and pushes me up the stairs. "Go shower. I'll shower after you do. How is it that you smell worse than I do, and I've Quidditch practice all day. I should be smeller, but you win on rankness."

I laugh as I make my way up the stairs. I am really glad Viktor came. I am so happy he is my big brother.

~Draco~

I sit in my study, going over my records. A few minutes later, an owl taps at the window. I can see it is a ministry owl. I let it in, and it drops off its letter before flying back out the window. As I open it, I see it has the seal of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It appears there is a creature for me to get.

This creature is a mixture of a fire crab and a runespoor. The letter tells me to come pick it up tomorrow whenever convenient. I should go tell James. He needs to come with me; he will be the one to care for this creature. Also, it does not hurt that he is a parselmouth and the creature is part snake.

I wonder what he is doing right now. It is a few hours after our lunch date. Date. I am thinking of it as a date. I should not because James more than likely does not. I should put distance between us, to limit my attraction, but I do not think I will be able to. More importantly, I should not be alone with him in his home. However, he did say I was always welcome there. He might not be in his cottage, but I still decide to apparate to the bottom of the stairs leading to the porch.

I can hear movement from upstairs. Good, he is home. I was not looking forward to searching for him. I climb the stairs and cross the porch to the door. I raise my hand to the knocker and knock. The knocker has been the same for sixteen years: a buck's head with a lily hanging from its mouth. I experience a rush of nostalgia of when I was a child, when I would come here knocking for Harry.

I shake myself from my memories when I hear a shout to come in. I open the door and step inside. I look around, taking in the scene. James is obviously upstairs because the ground floor is empty. The room looks just the same as it always has; the only difference is the racing broom, a Firebolt, leaning against the wall by the door.

I guess the rumors about him playing professional Quidditch are true. No one would have a professional grade broom for the fun of it. I would love to see him fly. He must be a superb flier. All the stories seem so exaggerated that I want to know the truth buried in them.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn towards the sounds and see James rounding the bend in the stairs. My breath hitches in my chest. If I thought he was sex on legs fully dressed, he is a sex god when half naked. He wears a pair of loose-fitting, worn denim jeans hanging around his hips, and that is it. His torso is bare, and oh so muscular. Every muscle is defined, solid, giving the illusion of being carved from sandstone.

I can finally make out the tattoo on his chest. It consists of four different images, all in black and white: a lily in bloom, a magnificent buck, a black dog running, and a wolf howling at the moon.** All of these are enclosed within a heart. It is so breathtakingly beautiful. I can sense a deeper meaning, probably one only James knows. Little rivets of water run down his chest from his hair. He looks to have just gotten out of the shower.

I do not realize how close together we are until I can see faint lines covering every inch of the skin on his chest. I step even closer, wanting to get a closer look. I know I am staring and I know that is rude, but, again, my curiosity wins over my logical mind. I gently lift my finger to trace one and feel a raised line. I breath in quickly, my eyes locking with his green ones. Those are all scars.

"How?" I ask hesitantly. I know it is not my place, but it pains me to see the evidence of such brutal treatment. Some of that pain leaks into my voice.

James breaks eye contact, but does not move away. He lifts his own hand and covers mine. "It was a long time ago."

"Please?" I ask, "Please, will you tell -" I cut off as I hear more movement from upstairs. I tilt my head, confused. If James is down here, what is upstairs? Just then, there is a shout.

"Jamie! I can't find a towel!" My heart clenches. It is a man's voice, a heavily accented man's voice. I feel my heart breaking yet again. James is gay and has rejected me for some other man. I pull up my Malfoy mask to cover my features; I have not worned it for months now. I jerk my hand from James' and take a quick step back.

"So sorry," I say, my voice icy even to my own eyes, "I did not know I was interrupting something. I just came by to tell you we have an appointment tomorrow with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Now, if you will excuse me." With that, I turn around and leave. More accurate description is I storm from the house. How could I let myself do this again? How could I let James worm his way into my heart? Did I not learn from the past? Was losing everyone important to me not enough? I continue down the path away from the cottage, away from the manor. I am too upset to care about where I am going.

~Harry~

Fuck. I saw the pain flash through Draco's eyes when he heard Viktor's voice. Why could Viktor not have waited a few more minutes to call out? I was just about to introduce Viktor to Draco as my brother, but now it seems that Draco thinks we are lovers. I have to go after Draco and explain. From the flash of hurt, I can see the Draco feels the same way I do.

"I'm going out. Stay inside." I call out to Viktor as I rush out the door. I frantically look around. I do not see Draco on the path to the manor. However, I do see his pale blond head disappearing farther into the forest. My heart clenches. I refuse to lose Draco the same way I lost my parents.

So I sun after him, calling out his name. Finally, he stops and I catch up with him. He stands with his back to me in the clearing. I can see him wrap his arms around himself. He whispers, "What do you want?" It comes out broken and I realize Draco is crying.

My heart breaks. I have reduced the man I love to tears. "Oh Draco," I whisper as I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. I feel the muscle tension, then he spins around to face me, cold fury seeping out of his bloodshot eyes.

*picture for the shirt: celticrosedesigns store/ images/ lord/ demela2 .jpg (remove the spaces)

**images in Harry's chest tattoo: (remove the spaces)

**The lily:** display_ pic_ with_ logo /86109/ 86109,1260291481,2/ stock-vector-hand-drawn-lily-vector-illustration-42445288 .jpg

**The buck:** images/ fightfront .jpg,

**The dog:** www. Colourbox preview/ 2165680-650575-large-black-dog-running-in-countryside .jpg (but hand drawn in black and white)

**The wolf: ** media/ inline/ blog/ Image/ 8-19-wolf_howl .jpg (also hand drawn)


	7. Chapter 6: The Past, Mostly

**Author's note:** Hey everyone! Here is the next chapter. I hope you all like it!

**Chapter 6: The Past, Mostly**

~Draco~

I give James my best death glare. I smack his hand off my shoulder, the warmth from his skin scorching against my pain. I wish I was more put together, but the tears flowed as soon as I was away from the cottage. How was I to know James would follow me? I stand my ground and let my fury out.

"What?! What do you want?" This all comes out a vicious snarl. "Go back to your boyfriend. I do not want your pity. I do not need anything from you."

"Draco," James pleads, his eyes so wide and green. That look should be illegal; I can already feel my resolve cracking around the edges. "He's not my boyfriend. Viktor is my brother. Well, partially my brother."

"What?" My resolve is completely gone, "then … then I don't understand." And I break down into tears, yet again. This time, though, a pair of arms wrap around me and pull me securely to a muscular chest. I turn my head and bury it in the crease between James' neck and shoulder.

"Shhhhh, it's okay," he whispers soothingly, rubbing his hands up and down my back. "Do you want to know? Would you like to understand my past?" Those last words he accentuates by pulling my hand to trace the scars that cover his chest.

I nod my head. I do not think my voice will cooperate with me right now. And I really want to understand. I want to know why James has those scars, why he has a Bulgarian 'brother', and why he is so ... him.

"Let's go back to my cottage. I will make us some tea, and, once we are settled, I will tell you about my past." Again I nod my consent. Then I feel the squeeze of apparation. I unbury my face to see us standing in the living room. There is a note sitting on the coffee table, and the house is silent. James picks up the note as he ushers me to the couch. He tucks me in with a blanket and heads to the kitchen. There, on his back, is the tattoo I glimpsed earlier. This one is much larger than the one on his chest. It is a dragon, a realistic one but a stylized one.* The body goes down his spine, the tail curling just before the dimples at his tailbone. The wings open up on his shoulder blades; this gives the dragon the illusion of flying every time James moves is arms. Once his gone, all I can think about is running my fingers over that tattoo.

He returns in a few minutes holding two steaming cups. He hands one to me, then starts to move to the chair. I grab his hand and gently tug at it, indicating I want him next to me. He smiles softly and settles beside me. I snuggle into his side and begin to sip the tea. He drapes his free arm around my shoulders. We sit silently for a few minutes, each sipping our tea.

He takes a deep breath. "Where would you like me to start?"

"Well, the beginning is always a good place to start." I am happy my wit has returned. This means I am feeling more like myself. That does not, however, mean I will be leaving this spot any time soon.

"Ok then. I was born here in England. I lived with my parents for my early childhood. However, they died when I was eight. The people I was sent to, they hated everything about me. They hated my hair. They hated my 'bad' attitude. But most of all, they hated my magic. So, they decided to try and rid me of it."

I suck in a horrified breath. How could someone even think to do that to a child? James gently squeezed my shoulder again. He set down his tea and started talking again.

"It was bad. They beat me, hard and repeatedly. That did not stop my magic. If anything, it made it flare up more. Then they started to cut my flesh, thinking the magic was in my blood. It was horrible. If not for my magic, I am pretty sure I would be dead."

His voice wavers as he speaks of this. I reach out my free hand and catch his. I lace our fingers together and place them in my lap.

"That went on for two years. I was sure I would not survive for much longer. Then, two days before my tenth birthday, I was saved. My godfather had apparently been looking for me since my parents died. He took me away from my horrid relatives. He and his partner adopted me, so I became their pup. We moved out of England, for many reasons. For them, it was too painful to stay: they had known my parents all through school and before they died. They had only stayed in England to find me. For me, I wanted to be as far from those horrible people as possible.

"So we settled in Serbia. Then, when I was eleven, I got my letter. I actually got two: one from Hogwarts since my parents went there and one from Drumstrang since we lived in the neighboring country. I chose Durmstrang because England was still too painful, the horrors still too fresh.

"So I started at Durmstrang. There, students choose a path when at the beginning of their educational careers. I chose to follow the path with magical creatures, because I had always been good with creatures, magical and not. For the first month, all was well. I was doing especially well; I was stronger than the other students in my year, therefore I could do more. Then, into the second month of school, I started to get bullied. It started out as minor stuff: name calling here, shoving there. However, it steadily got worse. It was originally just a few boys in my year, but more started in as I soon showed up lots of people in my studies. It bothered many students, most of them wealthy and from strong magical families, that a half-blood younger than themselves could best them.

"One day, I was cornered and beat bloody. It was bad. Not only was I greatly injured, but it had triggered horrible flashbacks of my cousin's beatings. I dragged myself to a bathroom where I just curled up and cried. I desperately wished I had my godfathers to hold me, to comfort me.

"That is where Viktor found me. I was shivering under the sinks. The tears had finally stopped but the shaking had not. When I first saw him enter, I had cowered farther under the sink, thinking he was going to beat me up some more. He was very popular and famous, even at that time."

I must look really confused, because James stops and chuckles slightly. "I'm sorry; you do not know who he is. Viktor, as in Viktor Krum, from the Bulgarian National Quidditch team."

Oh, my god. The Viktor Krum. The Viktor Krum is here. Well, was. I can hear no one else in the cottage, so I assume he left soon after I stormed off. I guess that note was him telling James he left.

"May I continue?" James asks. I nod. "Well, I thought I was in for round two, but Viktor showed compassion, asking what he could do. I looked into his eyes and saw the concern clearly written there. I take a breath to answer, but I flinched in pain; they might have broken my ribs. I saw Viktor's eyes cloud with rage, and I became scared again. I was braced for a punch, but instead he gently reached out and picked me up, cradling me to his chest. He then took me to the hospital ward. When we arrived, the mediwitch was in a state. I must have looked bad.

"Viktor then requested the headmaster come. After he arrived, Viktor told him how he had found me. He had overheard the people who beat me bragging about how they put the know-it-all scum in its place. Viktor demanded justice. And it was given, because Viktor was the pride and joy of the school.

"From then on, Viktor never left me defenseless. For the rest of that year, if anyone tried to hurt me, Viktor would fight them off. Gradually, people started to leave me alone. By then, Viktor and I were as close as any brother could be. He would even come and spend most of the summer with me and my godfathers.

"He is the one that helped me graduate early. I finished school three years early."

"How?" I interrupt. I know it is rude to interrupt, but I do not understand how a fourteen year old could perform at the level of a seventeen year old.

"Well, it seems that my relatives did something, inadvertently, to my magic. As you well know, a child's magical core is constantly growing at that young age. When they were trying to get rid of my magic, it affected the growth of my magical core. I needed more power in order to survive, so it grew and developed faster to protect me. That is how I was able to finish early. In addition, I had some help from Viktor. Also, that is one of the factors that allowed me to come to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament."

"One of the factors? What were the others?"

"Well, people had started grumbling about my advanced work again. Viktor was afraid that if he left, I would be targeted again. So he issued an ultimatum to the headmaster: either I went with Viktor or Viktor was not going. The famous athlete had to go, so I went as well."

"Wow, Viktor really had some pull with people in power."

James raised his eyebrow at me. "Did you not see the way Karkaroff bent over backwards for him while we were there?"

I blush, smiling sheepishly. "Point taken."

"It was really amazing to see Hogwarts. The castle was, of course, breathtaking. I think my favorite class we took there was Care of Magical Creatures." James looks sideways at me and winks. "I was really good at that class."

I snort at that. "But of course you were." I pause as a memory pops into my head. "Weren't you part of the second task?" I remember seeing a black-haired boy being pulled out the lake with Krum.

James shutters. "Yeah, that was terrifying. No matter how much I love magical creatures, merpeople always creep me out. This probably has to do with that task. I was summoned to the headmaster's office, two other people were waiting there. We were informed of our part in the task, and then we were put to sleep, somehow. The next thing I remember was waking up in the middle of the lake. When we got to shore, it was hilarious watching Viktor. He essentially threw a hissy fit about me being used in the task. I was not happy either, after I found out I was under the 'care' of merpeople. By then, I knew all about them, including their hostile nature. When dealing with merpeople, it is best to be fully conscience.

"The other thing I liked must about visiting Hogwarts was flying. There, I could fly with Viktor. We would always fly over summer, whenever he visited, but at school, no one was allowed to practice with him. I loved flying with him. He is the one that taught me how to fly. He said to me that first summer, 'Flying is an escape; it allows you to leave your problems on the ground.' So he taught me everything he knew. So, I became an excellent flying.

"When I was thirteen, my godfathers got me that broom," he points to the broom leaning against the wall. "Their friends thought them to be crazy; who in their right mind gives a thirteen year old a professional racing broom? I treasure that broom. With it, I could keep up with Viktor better. I think Viktor might have been grooming me to be a seeker, with all the one-on-one seeker challenges we did. Hogwarts was the first place that we actually got to use a stadium for our games."

I remember, when I was heading to Herbology, I would see two figures on the pitch. They flew together so perfectly, both masters of the air. I was always curious as to who was flying.

"Viktor won against me most of the time, but it was always close. A few times I did manage to beat him to the snitch. Those instances were few and far between. It happened once during the summer after we graduated. My godfathers decided to emancipate me because I had finished school and was magically considered a fully functioning adult. Because of this, I decided to spend the summer at Viktor's. We were practicing, both trying to outdo the other. I had fooled Viktor with a feint and changed directions at the last second to catch the snitch. Viktor decided to chase me down to the down. Once there, he engulfed me in a big, bear hug and spun me in circles.

"The moment was shattered when we heard clapping. He put me down shielding me from the intruder. I was still dizzy from being spun around and could not process what was happening. Then Viktor started laughing and stepped aside to introduce me to his team's owner. That is how I became the reserve seeker for the Bulgarian National Team. So I played for them for three seasons. I decided to do this, since even though I was magically strong enough to handle creatures, I was not physically strong enough.

"It was a lot of fun playing for the team. I got to practice and work out with the players. Even though I was the reserve seeker and really young to boot, the other players treated me fairly, helping me to become better. During my second season as a part of the team, I had to play as starting seeker. When Viktor had his crash, I was terrified. Seeing him lying on the ground, limbs at awkward angles and not moving, was the second most terrifying and heart wrenching moment I ever experienced. I knew I would never replace Viktor, but I played my best until he was fully recovered.

I decide to store that piece of information away for late. If seeing his 'brother' lying on the ground, looking dead, was the second most terrifying and heart wrenching moment for James, what was the first? I know I will not pry that out of him if he does not want to share it; I too have horrible memories that I hope will never see that light of day again.

"When I turned seventeen, I decided I wanted to follow my passion and work with creatures. So I enrolled in dragon training. Once there in Romania, I lived on the grounds of …"

He continued his tale, but my mind could not focus on it. James' voice is very hypnotic and soothing. The deep rumble against my side had been threatening to pull me under. I had been fighting it for a long time, but just as James was starting to speak of his dealings with dragons, I lose the battle. I feel my body slowly shutting down and I let my head settle against his strong pectoral muscle as I fall asleep.

~Harry~

I pause as I feel more weight at my side. I look down and see Draco's head nestled against my torso, fast asleep. He is really breathtaking when he sleeps; he looks just like the small child I knew. The sharp angles on his face soften; the cold mask is removed. I set my cup on the coffee table, careful not to disturb him. I gently raise my hand to brush the pale, fine hairs away from his forehead.

Oh, how much I have missed him, how much love him. I think I have probably loved him since we were children; I just did not know what it was then. I never want to let him out of the circle of my arms. However, I need to move him somewhere more comfortable. The couch is not the best place to fall sleep. I carefully slip my other arm under his legs. Once situated, I slowly lift him off the couch. The movement causes him to stir, but he calms back down under my gentle soothing.

I cautiously climb the stairs. It is not like he is heavy, he is very lean and I am rather strong. I cradle him against my chest, enjoying the feel of him in my arms. I wish I could do this every day. I make it to my room. Not the master suite, I cannot live where my parents did. I gently lay him in the bed. I transfigure his clothes into sleep clothes; it is rather uncomfortable to sleep in trousers and a dress shirt. I carefully tuck the quilt around him. He looks perfect against the quilt; his pale complexion contrasting beautifully with the vibrant colors my mother selected for the quilt. The pattern always reminds me of dragons' tails.** It seems fitting that the man with the dragon name should sleep under the dragon quilt.

I change out of my jeans and into my sweats, pulling the note from the pocket of my jeans. It reads, "I'm sorry Jamie, I will leave you be for a few days. Owl me when you have everything sorted out. Again, I am sorry". Once everything is back to normal with Draco, I will have him come back and introduce him to Draco. After that decision is made, I make my way to the armchair in the corner. I cast a dim _Lumos_ and settle down with _The Taming of the Screw_. I just love Shakespeare. I read until my eyelids grow heavy. At that point, I turn off the light and curl up in the chair like a cat.

*the dragon tattoo inspiration: www. elfwood art/ k/ r/ krystal321/ dragondesign .jpg (remove the spaces)

**the quilt design: www. generations-quilt-patterns images/ scrappy-quilts2 .jpg (remove the spaces)

**Another note:** This is the last chapter that is already finished. I will try to write as quickly as I can, but I think I will only be able to update on the weekends (college work is getting to me). I am sorry. However, that being said, if I finish a chapter before the weekend, I will most definitely post it. Thank you all for your support.


	8. Chapter 7: The Past, Reciprocated

**Author's note:** Hey everyone. I am sorry this is a day late (my computer froze last night; I seem to repel technology). Here is the new chapter, just as promised. I hope you all enjoy it.

**Chapter 7: The Past, Reciprocated**

~Harry~

The sound of gasping and frantic movement woke Harry from his light slumber. He sat up, rubbing his neck. The chair is not a good place to sleep. He looks over to the bed, to the source of the noises. He reacts instinctively, moving towards the sleeping figure.

Draco is thrashing around in his sleep. Sweat covers his forehead, the pale hair sticking to it in clumps. Tears leak out from under the closed eyelids. He starts mumbling things, words it appears. It sounds like one word repeated over and over, each time becoming more frantic.

I hurry over to the bed. I have every intension to wake him up. Just as I reach out my hand to shake his shoulder, Draco's mumble becomes a coherent, shouted word, becomes "Harry".

~Draco~

I am running through the forest. I am not twenty years old; I am thirteen years old. Ahead of me, I can barely see a figure running. The figure blends so well into the forest with his inky black hair; I only see flashes of his blue shirt in the gloom between the trees. The figure, the boy my age, is what my imagination pictures Harry as at that age.

We are running for something. I do not know what it is, but it is a dangerous creature. I know it will tear us to pieces if it catches us. I keep running, a mantra of Harry coursing through my brain. I must keep going. I must.

As I round a corner, a tree root trips me and I face plant into the dirt. I lift my head and see Harry still moving away, not realizing I fell. "Harry!" I call out, but he cannot hear me. Then there is a weight on my shoulder. I scream, flinching away and trying to break the grip on my shoulder.

"Shhhh, shhhhush," I hear. "It's ok. Draco, it's ok. You are safe."

I then realize I am in a bed, not in the forest. Someone is gently shaking my shoulder with one hand; the other is rubbing soothingly on my arm. I turn over and look up at the person above me. My eyes are blurry from sleep. I reach up a hand to cup the cheek in front of me. The person very familiar; I blurt out the first name that comes to my mind.

"Harry?"

~Harry~

Crap, Draco just called me Harry. He knows. He knows! Wait, he said Harry in his sleep as well, so he is probably still locked in the dream world.

"No, Draco, it's me, James. You're ok, you just had a nightmare." I bring my hand up and cover the one on my cheek. I see the clarity return to his silver eyes. Shame shines in them and he turns away from me.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I should have told you I get nightmares a lot. Did I wake you?" There is a nervous tremor in his voice.

"Yes," I say softly, "but that is alright. I get nightmares as well. I did not want you to stay in that one; you seemed so scared." I gently rub the hand under my own. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He cringes. "Not really," he sighs dramatically, "but I guess I will though, seeing as you shared the demons in your past."

"How about I make us some hot chocolate?" I smile at Draco, uncertainly, "I know it makes me feel better after a nightmare."

He smiles back weakly. "That would be lovely."

I quickly head downstairs to the kitchen. As I make the drinks, I ponder what is about to happen. I am about to learn about Draco's life. I have wanted to know this since I left all those years ago. It has pained me not to know about my best friend, my brother-in-all-but-blood, my love. Now, I will finally know.

With a cup of hot chocolate in each hand, I carefully make my way back up the stairs and down the hall. I pointed my head inside my door, the rest of my body soon following. I walk over to the bed. There, Draco sits against the headboard, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them. He looks so lost, just staring off into space. He is so lost in his own mind; he seems to have not noticed my return. I softly walk over to the bed, making sure to cross in front of his line of sight.

At that, his eyes focus on me. I hold out one of the cups, and he takes it. I walk around to the other side of the bed. I settle against the headboard as well, a decent space between us. I want to be closer, but I want to respect his boundaries. I think he would want some space. I look at my hot chocolate and wait.

A hand on my thigh brings my eyes up to his. The silver has a laughing quality to it; the skin around them crinkling with mirth. "Aren't you going to come closer? I thought we had crossed that particular bridge earlier when I was snuggled into your side."

I smile and close the gap between us. I am surprised when Draco wiggles closer, his legs draped over my lap and his head tucked under my chin.

"Is this alright with you?" he asks. "This is going to be hard for me; I have never shared my past with anyone. I want to feel safe and protected; you make me feel safe and protected."

"Yes," I breathe as I wrap my arms around him. "This is definitely alright."

We sit in silence, drinking our hot chocolate. I do not want to push him. If what he said is true, that he has never shared any of this with another person, then he needs time to organize his thoughts. I know it took me a minute, so I can understand.

I can feel him take a deep breath, and slowly let it out. Then he begins.

"Well, I was raised very much the spoiled brat of a nobleman. Everything I ever wanted and disconnected from reality. It was not until I was four that my thinking changed. I had met a boy, a boy very different than me. He and I was the same age. He was the son of the beast tamers at the time, living in this very house. He taught me so much about the real world, about creatures, about friendship. I never had a friend before I met him. We soon became best friends, as close as brothers.

"We had many adventures and misadventures. We drove my mother and his mother up the wall with our antics. My father did not approve of our friendship; it was beneath a Malfoy to be friends with one of the 'help', as he put it. But I loved him and would never fathom giving him up.

"However, I did not get a choice in the matter. When we eight, there was a tragic accident. His parents were killed. No, that is putting it mildly. His parents were brutally attacked by acromantulas right in front of him. It was horrible, hearing about it from my father. I lost three people I cared about that day: his parents, who I loved like my own, and him, my best friend." He pauses, trying to control himself. I was very happy at that moment that Draco could not see my face. If he could have seen my face, my cover would have been blown because there are tears falling from my eyes. Even after all these years, my parents' death is still very sharp and real and horrible.

Draco draws another calming breath and continues, "His name was Harry. The Harry I called you when I woke up. I have horrible nightmares about him, mostly of us in the forest and one of us in mortal danger. You look like him, now that I think about it. Well, you look like what I would picture he would look like all grown up. I think you two would have gotten along very well; he was a great lover of creatures and worked well with them.

"But I digress. I never saw him after that. He was taken from the manor to live with relatives. I wanted to follow him, comfort him, bring him back to me, but I could not. His mother seemed to have put a fail-safe on their will. It read that in the event that the two of them were killed, Harry would be immediately sent to live with her sister. It also stated the address of these relatives. However, there was a catch that was not written: upon the delivery of Harry to him parents, the persons with knowledge of the address were wiped of the memory of it. So when I begged my father to tell me where Harry was, my father had no answer. I was heartbroken. My best friend, my brother of my heart, was gone."

Draco stops and sips at his chocolate, lost in his memories. Now I understand. I understand why no one came for me. Over the first few weeks of living with my aunt, uncle, and cousin, I was hurt that no one cared enough to come for me. I thought I was not loved; when I abuse started, I felt like I was left there as punishment. Now I see that my mother provided me with that safeguard to protect me. Remy and Siri told me my parents were part of a group that supported the mixing of the magical bloodlines, the Order of the Phoenix. This put them in some danger because the group had violent opposition. The pieces start to fix together. They were protecting me in case they were killed by that opposition, an elitist group of purebloods called Death Eaters; my parents believed I would be a target after they were no longer able to protect me. I am the epitome of what the Order of the Phoenix stood for: I am a halfblood, the child of a pureblood wizard and a muggleborn witch. In the bottom of my trunk, in its protective case, is a medallion for the Order: a phoenix with a circle around it. It is now mine, but I do not wear it often.

I am brought out of my musing when I feel Draco shift against me. I look down to see him turn to set his empty cup on the nightstand. He takes mine, not empty but holding a little bit of cold liquid, and sets it next to his. Then he snuggles closer.

"I will always wonder what happened to Harry. I still wish he had been here with me. After he was gone, I changed. I became the perfect heir. I was quiet and respectful; I was refined and dignified. I no longer acted like a child. I grew up fast. I learned to hide my emotions, bury them, because it hurt too much to feel them. My mother told me later that it pained her to see the child in me leave, to see me become emotionless. I guess it was my coping mechanism for losing Harry.

"I never really had other friends before I started school. I threw myself into my studies, reading my way through the library in the manor. I learned lots of things, many of which were not suitable for a child. But my father was proud of me, so I continued. All of my studying did not leave much time for other people. The only person I interacted with was my mother for tea in the afternoons. I was not a social person. The only person that I ever really hung out with was Harry.

"When I did start school, Hogwarts as you already know, I knew vast amounts of knowledge on most subjects. Of course, I was sorted in Slytherin, just like the rest of the Malfoy line. I had such hopes for that sorting, though not my own, mind you; I know I was going to be in Slytherin. I had hopes that Harry would be there. He was born here in England, so he would receive a letter to Hogwarts. I did not see him on the train, or the boats. I did not worry though, because there were lots of people and he could have been lost in the crowd. But when they went through the people with 'P' last names and there was no Potter, I felt like crying. I wanted my best friend back, but he was gone. So I decided to make the best of it.

"That house is where I met must of my current friends, though the word friend is pushing it. Most of them are more like acquaintances. Millie and Greg, the people you did the job for before I hired you, are part of that group. It took me a few years, but I did manage to make two close friends: Pansy and Blaise. They are happily marriage and have a snot-nosed little brat on the way.

"I was second in my year, never managing to pass this know-it-all muggleborn witch. My father was not too pleased with that, but I did not really care. I was in a rebellious stage during my second through fifth years of school. However, fifth year I wish I wasn't. I wish I had tried to be better. For him."

Draco breaks into soft sobs here. I hold him close and rub soothing circles on his back. I could just tell that something horrible happened. Something horrible happened after his fifth year that involved his father. After a minute, Draco got himself under control.

"It was two weeks after my birthday; I had just turned sixteen. We were looking for signs of some creature. The current beast tamer, Phil Rockton, thought it was injured, so he required my father's help. I was allowed to come because I was interested in magical creatures and was mastering the subject at Hogwarts. We had been following the bandage left by the creature when there was a roar. Out of nowhere, a chimaera knocked my father off the trail and against a tree. He fought against it, but the creature was too strong and powerful. He was died within minutes; there was nothing Phil or I could do. The beast left after it had thoroughly killed my father, not seeming to notice us. I learned later that Phil had cast a concealment ward around the two of us while the chimaera was distracted.

"That was the summer I officially grew up into an adult. With my father's death, I became Lord Malfoy, head of our house. I inherited everything; I had to manage everything. One problem: I did not know how. My father had been planning on teaching me the workings of the estate and the dealings with nobility that came with the title. I was on my own to figure it all out.

"The last two years of school went by in a rather uneventful manner. Soon I was free from school, having graduated second in my class. I really could care less about being bested by the muggleborn; I was more upset about her being a girl verses her blood status. However, some people in my year though differently. They thought muggleborns should not allowed to learn magic. The group is called the Death Eaters and they are an elitist group trying to protect blood purity. I know you saw it," he said, lifting his arm slightly and turning it so the tattoo could be seen. It was the ugliest tattoo in my opinion, not because of the design but because of the meaning.

"I was stupid. I knew people in it; many Slytherins are in it. They coerced me to join. I was never really involved with it. I never felt connected to the cause. I was soon kicked out, but the tattoo is permanent. I think why I was never as dedicated to the cause was Harry. He was a halfblood and he was just as magical strong as I was. There was hardly a difference between the two of us. I wish I could remove this tattoo. It is a horrible reminder of my own stupidity and weakness. I saw how your eyes trained in on it during lunch. I saw how they darkened just a bit. I hope you can forgive me my lack of judgment."

He pulls away to look beseechingly up at me, his eyes bright. I breath in and out, then reach for my wand. "Accio case." The small lacquered case flies out of my trunk and into my hand. I open it and remove the medallion. I hold it out to Draco. His eyes widen even farther as he takes it from me. "This is way I looked at your tattoo with that darkened gleam in my eye. I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix, just like my parents. This is my mother's medallion. I am very glad you explained why you have that tattoo, because when I first saw that tattoo, I thought I would never meet your standards. I am a halfblood."

"You are too good for me." He slips the medallion over my head, and then cups my cheek. "You should wear it. It is a connection to your parents, and to show your pride in your lineage."

I smile at him, and whisper, "Thank you." I clear my throat. "Now, is there more, or are we done sharing our pasts?" I try to make a joke to lighten the mood.

He chuckles slightly. "Not really, just another person I cared about was hurt by my creatures. A lover: we were just starting to take the next steps in our relationship. I found him ripped apart on a path, though I do not know by what. After all these losses, after I gave each of them part of my heart and lost it, I decided to lock up my heart to protect it from farther damage." He looks up at me again. "However, I might be willing to try again. Could you accept me? This broken shell of a man, afraid to love?"

"Draco," I say gently as I brush the back of my hand over his cheek, "I am just as broken. I think we could be good for each other. We each have our problems, our issues, but together we can pick up the pieces and make it work." I lean in closer, our mouths an inch apart. "How does that sound?"

"That sounds amazing." And Draco closes the distance between our lips.


	9. Chapter 8: Acts of Feelings

**Author's Note: **I am soooooo sorry guys. I did not mean to let this much time happen between my last update and this one. I was having a mild case of writer's block, then finals happened. Those were a pain in my arse. Anyways, I hope you all like it. Also, there is a surprise in here ... a lemon, as well as some cutesy fluff.

**Chapter 8: Acts of Feelings**

1 month later

~Draco~

I smile as I apparate onto the porch. This past month has been like a dream. James and I just seem to click; we are perfect together. We are similar, yet different enough to complement each other. He is bold and courageous (and heroically stupid in my opinion), and I am cautious and shy (and timid in his opinion). But we both are passionate. Oh man, are we passionate. Whether we are making sweet love or going at it like animals, we are always evenly matched.

I spend most of my time here, at his cottage. I was here earlier, but I had to leave beause of a meeting at the Ministry. The letter told me it would be only an hour. That thing lasted for six bleeding hours. Also, that 'meeting' as the letter put it, was not actually a meeting. It was more of conference with all the lords and the Minister of Magic. It was a bunch of old, craggily men arguing over this or that. I am the youngest lord, the next youngest being fifty years my senior. I did not care one bit about any of what they were arguing over. It was just an argument over policies. God, I hate politics. My only joy in this is pissing off the other lords; it appalls them that I wear Muggle clothing instead of traditional Wizarding robes.

I am really happy to be back. I miss being here. Not necessarily the manor itself, but the grounds and this cottage. I feel most at home here. Most of my happy memories are in this cottage, and now James lives in this cottage as well. I open the door and walk in, kicking my shoes off into the pile there. Faint sunlight filters through the drapes. All is quiet. I wonder where James is.

"James?" I call out. There is no answer. I guess he could be out working with some of the creatures. I am much later than I told him I would be. "Well, I suppose I will just wait here for you," I say to the open air.

I walk farther into the room, heading around the couch. The sight that greets me warms my heart. There lays James, asleep. He is sprawled across the couch, with his torso propped up against the armrest. His deliciously bare torso. A quilt is pooled in his lap, appearing to have slipped off his shoulders. This quilt was made for him by Viktor's grandmother as a house-warming gift*. Viktor had brought it when he came back after that disastrous first meeting. He is a nice person, once I got to know him.

A small noise draws my attention back to the couch. James shifts slightly, as if he is cold. His nipples twitch in the draft I created from moving through the house. A marvelous idea pops into my head as I stare that those dusty pink nubs. Dropping my suit jacket on the armchair, I walk over and crouch down next to him. I bent over until my head is inches from his skin. I then breathe gently on his nipples. James whimpers, shifting under my breath. I stick out my tongue and gently nudge it against the pebbled flesh. The skin tightens, and I leer at the man beneath me. I lick at it again. James subtly moves toward the wet muscle.

I continue to levy attention onto that pert little nub. The little movements under my tongue also continue. James seems to still be asleep, but he is makes these sounds that are so erotic, lighting a fire in my blood. After I worry the nipple into a hard little bud, I move over to the other one. I begin to levy the same attention on this one as I did the other. Amazingly, James is still asleep, though with all the noises and movements he is making, that will not be true soon.

The moans and groans James emits are very arousing. After only a few minutes, my trousers are more than a little painful. As my mouth continues downward on James' chest, I move my hand down to my belt buckle. The metal clanks as it falls open. I push my trousers down as I wiggle my tongue in the belly button above the dark happy trail. My erect cock bobs happily in my pants as the pressure is removed from it. Slowly, I bring my hands up to the edge of the quilt and begin to pull it down. An angry hiss brings me up short.

"My humble apologies, my lady Frost," I say with a bowed head as the beautiful snake slithers out from under the dislodged quilt. "I did not realize you were concealed beneath the quilt." The ice snake looks me up and down. I feel oddly exposed under the scrutiny of those slit eyes. Frost gives one more hiss, and then slithers out of the living room. I heave a sigh of relief and drop my head on his stomach. Even after all this time, James' snake still freaks me out. Only he would treat a deadly snake as a cuddly sleeping buddy. To allow her to curl up on his lap … I shudder at the thought of something that deadly so close to private parts, specifically the private parts I am particularly fond of. "Merlin," I breath against the skin by my face.

The body under me starts to vibrate. I turn my head slightly, and I can hear soft laughter. The sound puzzles me, and I lift my head up. I can now see the laughing face of James, the flush from his arousal still emanate on his golden skin.

I quirk my eyebrow at him, saying, "And what do you think is so funny?"

~Harry~

The look on Draco's face is so adorable. Although, I am pretty sure Draco will skin me and then feed me to the dragons if I ever told him that. Draco is a combination of opposites; he is fearless in the face of many of his creatures, but he is terrified of Frost. I lift my hand and cup Draco's cheek. He is so beautiful. I cannot believe I get to be here with him, like this.

Speaking of this, I wish he had not stopped when he distrubed Frost. I was rather enjoying it. Yes, Draco thought I was asleep, but I have been awake since he called out my name. I just wanted to see what he would do. The results are very pleasing, if incomplete.

Draco nuzzles into my hand. He looks ethereal, with his pants barely hanging on his hips, his cock straining against his pants, and his silver eyes filled with lust and love. I do not believe that even Draco knows it, but I can see it. He loves me, and I love him. It warms my heart so much, but I know it is an illusion. All of this is a lie, and Draco will hate me when the truth comes to light. But now is not that time for that. Now, I have a gorgeous, aroused blond on his knees before me which demands my attention. I smile adoringly down at him.

He tilts his head, leaning even more into my hand. "What?" he asks, a flash of uncertainty crosses his face.

I lift my other hand to cup the opposite cheek. "Nothing," I say with a wide grin on my face. "I just want you up here, rather than down here." I end my thought with a leer and an apprehensive glance down Draco's body, and pat my lap with my free hand.

He quirks his eyebrow, again (he does that an awful lot). "Oh really? Is that what you want? Because I had a very good plan I was executing before I came across your," he looks around nervously before continuing in a whisper, "bloodly dangerous snake curled around your cock." He lays a hand on said cock. It is still rather hard, though softer than before the interruption; however, it seems to turn to granite when Draco covers it with his hand. I let out a gasp. He adopts a predatory smile as he continues, "Would you like for me to continue?"

I have lost most of my coherency, because Draco's hand has not ideal as he talks. He is massaging my groin, slowly working my jeans apart. I just nod. That is all I can do.

"Good," he smirks. He gently pushes my jeans and boxers down, freeing my erection. He licks his lips as he traces his fingers over the swollen flesh. I run my hands up his arms to his shoulders because I need to do something with my hands. When he barely touches his tongue to the slit, I let my head collapse back against the armrest. Draco is very talented with him mouth. Soon my brain completely shuts down, refusing to function at all. I can feel my orgasm building. Draco needs to stop before I cum down his throat. No matter how appealing that sounds, I have a better idea.

I dig my fingers into his hair and gently pull his head off me. I am heavily panting, and Draco is giving me this betrayed glare. I look into those eyes that have turned molten during our previous activities. I smile and run my fingers through Draco's pale, silken hair once more. "I have an idea for a better use of this." My hands drift down to under his arms, and I lift him up onto my lap.

He settles in, groaning at the contact. I transfer my hands from his underarms down his back into his pants and give the firm globes of his arse a squeeze. Using that handhold, I bring his clothed groin down to grind against my exposed one. He arches his back, pushed closer to me. "Much better idea," he mumbles as his head falls backwards. I continue to massage his glorious arse, arching up into him. I remove one hand from said arse to his front, and start to unbutton his pale blue dress shirt. The color looks lovely with his fair complexion, pulling faint blue specks from his silver eyes. Once it was completely open, I trace patterns over the muscled chest, occasionally tweaking his nipples. Draco brings his head forward and starts to kiss me like my mouth is essential for life.

Right as I am starting to feel faint, my lap is suddenly empty. Shocked, I look up at Draco, who is standing by the couch. I must look confused because Draco smirks at me, looking me up and down. "I seem to be overdressed," he simpers, pushing the shirt off his shoulders to pool in a heap on the floor. I groan, realizing Draco plans to strip for me. I am riveted as he wiggles his hips, resulting in his trousers around his ankles. He smirks and steps forward, out of the trousers puddling on the floor. He stands in front of me, his thumbs hooked in his Y-fronts. Draco looks like a blond Adonis, standing there in his toned glory with his excited bits straining against the green and silver briefs. Slytherin to the end; the crest of Slytherin marks the very front of the pants.

"So James," Draco says with a leer, moving forward until his legs brushed mine, "what should I do with these?" He pulls the pants away from his body slightly, the head of his pulsing cock peeping out the top. "Should I remove them?" He quirks that bloody eyebrow again. I moan. He lowers the waistband a little, then pulls them back up.

"Please," I beg, reaching out a hand to touch along Draco's hipbone. "Please don't tease me." I grab onto his hip and pull him to me.

He smiles, an actual smile, not his usual smirk. He yanks the offending garment off and settles in my lap. I wrap my arms around Draco, my Dragon, and pull his bare chest against my own. I bury my nose in his neck, pulling his scent into my being, my very core. As I rub my cock along his, I place tender kisses on his neck.

Draco nuzzles his nose into my hair line, moving up to my ear. He nibbles my earlobe, whispering, "James, take me. Take me, right here, right now. I want you. I want your amazing cock in my arse, no prep. Just take me."

I pull away, just enough to look into his eyes. "Are you sure?"

~Draco~

Merlin, I love him. Even at this height of arousal, James still cares about me. He makes sure I want this. I just offered myself up to his mercy, surrendering my body to him. Any other man would seize the opportunity, without question, ravishing me any which way. But not James. As I stare into his vivid emerald eyes, I see a man who cares deeply for me. I lean forward and gently press my lips to his. I pull back and cup his cheek with my hand. "Yes, I am sure, James."

My other hand snakes around his erection, and the hand on his cheek moves into his silky, black hair. I brush my nose along James' jaw, nipping slightly at its base. I give his cock a squeeze, enjoying the feel of it beneath my fingers. My lips brush the pulse point on his neck, and I kiss it as the rhythm picks up. I feel his hands move down to my arse, spreading my cheeks to allow better access. I moan, and give another quick kiss before mumbling a lubrication charm under my breath, conjuring apple scented lube out of thin air (Why it is apple scented, I have no idea. The lube must vary from person to person because James conjures cinnamon scented lube).

With James' raging erection now covered in the slick substance, I lip myself up and position him at my entrance. _This is going to hurt._ As I sink down onto him, I cup James' face with my free hand and kiss him hard, trying to distract myself. However, the burn and stretch of him entering me pulls my brain from the kiss. I break the kiss and drop my head on his shoulder, hissing at the pain.

James moves his hands in soothing circles on my back. He presses a kiss to the back of my head. "Shhhh," he whispers, his hands never stopping. "You're ok, my love. Just breathe. It will stop soon, I promise. I am so sorry."

After a few moments, the burn decreases and the full feeling takes precedent. I need motion; the head of his cock is applying stifling pressure to my prostate. I lift my head and stare into James' beautiful eyes. Again, there is the flicker of a memory in the back of my mind, but it flies away before I can even acknowledge it. I smile and ask cheekily, "You ready?"

James grins back. "Of course." With that, I lift up slightly, and then sink back down. We both groan at the feel of our bodies connecting, pushing and pulling against each other. I love how he feels, how my channel seems to pull him even deeper. On one of my downward passes, James pushes up into me, driving his cock up hard against my prostate. I cry out, throwing my head back and let James take control. He burrows into my neck, sucking the skin there with enough strength to leave a love bite. One of his hands cradles the back of my head, and the other grips my hip.

My mind is lost in all the feelings and emotions. Before I know it, James has me down on my back, his body resting between my legs. The new position is mildly shocking, but not unwanted. I love when he becomes aggressive, exerting dominance over me. In normal circumstances, I would never surrender to anyone, but I love submitting to someone I love. I give up trying to think as James pounds into me from this new angle.

Soon, I feel my orgasm approaching. I grab James' hair and pull his head down for a kiss. After only a few more thrusts to my prostate, my climax rushes out of me, causing my vision to go white. I can faintly feel his cock pulsing inside me, signing James' release. I am so lost in the post-orgasmic bliss, enjoying the feeling of completeness. The weight of his body pressing against mine is very comforting. I wrap my arms around James, pulling him closer.

As I feel myself drifting off to sleep, I want to tell him how I feel. Those three words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them. I am afraid of what those words will cause. I do not want to scare James off; it has only been a month that we've been together. Also, I do not want to lose James. Just like Lucas, just like Father, just like Harry. And with that thought, my awareness dissolves as I fall asleep in the arms of my love.

*image of the quilt (remove the spaces): www. bigisland- bigisland images /merrie-monarch -hawaiian-quilt -exhibit- 04042009-04302009 -21236948. jpg


	10. Chapter 9: Beginning of the End

**Author's note:** Wow, I want to thank each and every person that has read/reviewed/followed/favorited this story. You are what helps me stay motivated and focused on writing. Which is why I already have another update for you all. I just seem to have the inspiration (and time) to write. I hope you like it.

**Chapter 9: Beginning of the End**

~Harry~

As I slowly wake up, muscles in my neck and back twinge. _Note to self, do not sleep on the couch, too uncomfy._ I open my eyes, trying to guess the time. The sun was still shining through the drapes when we fell asleep. No light is there, so it must be sometime during the night. We really should move to a bed, because if I am uncomfortable, Draco must be even worse off.

Speaking of Draco, he shifts marginally, still sound asleep. I do not want to wait him, but he will be happier when I do. I caress his face, marveling at the velvety skin. I lean forward and kiss his rosy lips. He whimpers slightly as I pull away. I gently shake his shoulder, trying to wake him.

Draco brings a hand up to push mine away. "Nooooo," he groans out, acting exactly like a small child. "Go away, don't wanna get up." He tries to roll over, but cannot because I am still laying on him.

"No, darling," I say, "you need to get up so we can go somewhere softer than the couch." I stand up, holding out my hand to him.

He squints up at me, and then lifts his arms up. "Carry me?"

I shake my head at his silliness, but I pick him up nonetheless. With Draco in my arms, bridal style, I walk out of the room. Draco slips his arms around my neck, rubbing his nose against my Adam's apple. He mumbles something there that I cannot here.

"Don't fret, my Dragon. I have you, and I will not drop you," I coo at him. He squirms closer, tightening his arms slightly. I press a kiss to the top of his head. Merlin, he is adorable. I make my way up the stairs, careful not to jostle my precious cargo too much. Soon, I am opening the door to my room. I pull back the covers and lay Draco down gently. I tuck him in and step away from the bed.

Draco whimpers and reaches out for me. "James? Don't leave me. Come back." These words are uttered in the most pathetic voice imaginable.

I take his hand in mine and give it a kiss. "I'm not leaving, love. I just need to change; I'm still wearing my jeans. Go back to sleep." I wait patiently until Draco is sound asleep, caressing the back of the hand.

I go and sit in the chair, watching him sleep. I, however, am no longer tired and doubt I will be able to again tonight. There are too many thoughts running around my head. My conscience is eating away at me. I have been immoral; I have been a despicable human being. I am unworthy of everything, especially the man asleep in my bed. I do not deserve to be with him, to bed him, to love him.

I know what I should do. I should have done it the minute Draco went to hire me. I should have told him the truth about me. If not when I first started, then I should have told him when I told him of my past. However, I am a coward. I have hidden behind my lies for too long; it has become customary for them to shroud me, protect me. I did not have the strength to rip them to pieces. I am not sure I have the strength now, but I have to come clean. This relationship, no matter how sweet, is unhealthy because it is founded on lies.

"Tomorrow," I whisper to the air, "Tomorrow night I will tell him. Tomorrow night, I will leave here." With that, I remove my jeans and slip under the covers, pulling the man I love close one last time.

~Draco~

I wake in the morning, feeling happy. Happiness did not used to be a part of my life. After all my losses, I had little to be happy about. It is a regularly occurring emotion now that James has entered my life. He brings light to my life. I feel like there is a reason to keep going on, to live my life; he gives me a purpose for my existence.

I love him with all my heart. I am just not brave enough, or strong enough, to tell him. But I want to, Merlin, I want to tell him. When? Tonight is just as good as any night. Somehow, someway, I will find the strength to tell James my feelings towards him.

I am pulled from my musings when the chest under my head moves. James is about to wake up. I know because he never sleeps for long after sunrise. I have tried to get him to sleep in, but the habit of rising early has been imbedded deep after years of necessity. So I just snuggle in, enjoying his warmth. His arm, currently around my waist, tightens slightly in an unconscious movement.

Not long after, I feel a kiss placed on my temple. I lift my head up to meet those lips. The kiss is sweet and chaste, but also passionate. All too soon, James pulls away and smiles a huge goofy grin at me. I know there is an equally large and goofy grin on my face. I place one last little kiss on his lips, because I know he is about to get up.

As predicted, James caresses my face as he moves out of the bed. "I must get up, my Dragon. There is an area in the forest I need to investigate; a magical disturbance appears to originate from it. Feel free to stay there and sleep, but leave tonight open for us. I have plans for us." He ends with a cheeky smirk.

"Alright," I answer, "I will meet you on the porch tonight." I lounge on the bed, watching as James gets dressed. I mourn a little as each inch of his sun-kissed skin is covered, as each tattoo is hidden. "I hope your plan includes a celebration; today is our one month anniversary." His hands falter on the lacings of his shirt, but only for a second and then he continues.

I can see the over-shirt* on the chair. I see the perfect opportunity to touch my man before he leaves for the day. And have a little bit of fun at the same time. With his back turned to me, James never sees me roll off the bed and snatch the over-shirt off the chair. When he reaches for it, I have to stop myself from laughing at him. His hand searches fruitlessly, trying to locate the missing shirt. After a few more moments, James turns to look at the empty chair, and I move to stay behind him. He looks around, trying to figure out where it is. Then his eyes lock on the empty bed.

"Oh Draco, where are you, Draco dearest?" He starts to turn in a slow circle, scanning the room for me. The problem is, since I am right behind, I can move with him and stay out of his line of sight. After he circles the entire room, he stops and scratches his head. "Now where did you go?"

And I pounce. I jump on his back, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. "Gotcha," I whisper in his ear, the represses laughter seeping into my words.

James tilts his head back to look at me. The expression on his face is a cross between fond and exasperated. "Have you had your fun? Can I have my over-shirt, since I am pretty sure you have it? I kind of need it for work." Somehow he manages to turn around so we are front to front. In this position, our groins are nearly perfectly aligned. I smirk and grind into him for a moment. James groans and staggers a bit from arousal. Then I jump down, with as much agility as a panther.

"No, not really, but you have to work. So that means we can't have the kind of fun I want." I smirk cheekily at him, holding the over-shirt in front of me. "Want some help with this?" James gives me this skeptical look. "Come on," I coax, wiggling it a little, "it will go on faster with help."

He finally gives in, letting me slide the leather up his arms to his shoulders. If I caress the muscle a little more than absolutely necessary, so what? I stand facing him, adjusting the shirt so it set correctly. Then, I started working on the buckles. Why on world are there buckles? It makes the garment seems like it was designed in the middle ages. Actually, it is highly possible that this over-shirt was originally created during that time. Also, it matches the undershirt, the billowy shirt that looks amazing on him.

When all the buckles are fastened, I step back and admire my love. James looks like a person pulled out of history, out of a time when warriors fought valiantly for their lords. He is my knight, my warrior, my hero. I lean forward and kiss James on the lips. Then I move to the side and give his wonderful arse a slap.

"Go on, get out of here. Go do your job." I smile at him and he smiles back. He gives me a salute, a kiss on the cheek, and walks out of the house. I watch him go, and then I curl up in his bed. I breathe in his smell that is left in the bed, falling asleep in its comforting embrace.

~Harry~

Thoughts of Draco plague me as I walk to the sector that I plan to check, deep within the forest. His actions this morning show me just how deep we both are in this farce of a relationship. The very fact that Draco was willing to act like a child is proof that he is comfortable enough with me to drop his shields. I have wormed my way under the walls he built to protect himself; I have the power to completely destroy him. When I tell him the truth tonight, I know that I will break him beyond repair.

After a couple hours of walking, the area I seek is in front of me. It might have been more efficient to ride a horse out here, but I wanted the exertion of the physical action to help focus my mind and help clear thoughts of Draco from it. As I finally enter the area, a dark chill creeps along my skin. This place has known death, and reveled in it. Before the darkness can sink into me, I cast a patronus to help protect me. The stag erupts from my wand, prancing at my side. I run a hand over its back and feel the chill leave my skin. I continue walking, going deeper into the tainted area.

In the center, I find what looks like an abandoned acromantula colony. All the signs are there: the webs, the honeycomb tunnels, the bones. The spiders are missing, though. As I poke around some more, I see something out of the ordinary. I see what appears to be a statue of white marble.

As I get closer, I can see that it is a statue of a stag with a lily dangling from its mouth. My pulse decreases and my blood grows colder. When I am standing right in front of it, I can see there is an inscription on the base. I do not want to read it; I want to stay in my world of denial. However, my curiosity happens to rear its ugly head and makes me read the words. They are:

_This monument is in honor of the memory of_

_James and Lily Potter,_

_Who gave their lives for their son to survive._

_May their spirits find peace._

I collapse to my knees, tears flowing down my cheeks. This is where they died; this is where the acromantulas tore them to pieces. I cry out as the grief I keep buried explodes as chest-heaving sobs. My stag nuzzles against the side of my head. I lift my hand to pet its head. Even the pure, positive energy of the patronus cannot help me out of my grief.

I look into my stag's eyes. "Go find Draco, tell him 'I need you', then lead him back here. Got it?" The stag nods its head, then charges off. As soon as it is gone, grief and darkness engulfs me.

~Draco~

I sit at my desk in my study, doing paperwork for my estate. Actually, doing paperwork is an exaggeration of the truth: I am staring at the papers while trying to guess what James has planned for later. He has been on my mind all day, not leaving enough space for any other thoughts. I miss him so much, even though it has only been a few hours. I really hope I do not scare him off with my declaration tonight; I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

I shake myself, trying to dislodge the thoughts preventing me from working. When that fails, I stand up and pace for a bit. That helps calm my mind and body somewhat. So does the shot of firewhiskey. I then settle back in to work.

Not ten minutes later, a stag patronus races into the room. I am shocked, trying to figure out to whom it would belong. Then it opens its mouth and speaks in the most anguished voice imaginable. It says "I need you." It can be deduced that the speaker in crying, holding back sobs. After a moment, I realize that voice belongs to James.

Horror paints over my face, and I reply, "I'm coming, baby, hold on." That must have been a sign to the stag, because it turns and leaves the room. I run after it, praying I will not be too late.

*****image of the over-shirt: www. thevikingstore. co. uk/ ekmps/ shops/ thevikingstore1/ images/ leather- armour- dual- swordsman- basic- [2]- 1069 -p. jpg (remove the spaces)

**Another Author's note:** this story is almost finished (there will only be a couple more chapters). However, I am in need of some help; I cannot decide how to end it. I have multiple ending in my head, but I cannot seem to make up my mind which one to chose. So I have made a poll on my profile. Please vote for the type of ending you would like. I really appreciate your help =)


	11. Chapter 10: Truth Comes to Light

**Author's Note:** I am sorry for the delay; I know I said I would be better at updating on a more regular basis. I was doing really well, until I got sick. I've had what feels like a combination of strep throat, broncitis, and allergies for the last week and a half. So, without farther adou, here is the next chapter.

**Chapter 10: Truth Comes to Light**

_Parseltongue_

~Draco~

The stag leads me to a place deep within the forest. A place I have been before. This is the deepest, darkest, place in the forest, perhaps the whole estate. Death has infected this area so much; the darkness is physical, almost like a fog, permeating the very air. That is why the acromantulas were here. That is the thing with dark creatures: they are attracted to darkness and like to create more. Something bad, something horrific must have here to attract the spiders.

However, I know of something horrible that happened after the acromantulas inhabited this place. This is where Harry's parents were killed, after being dragged from the cottage. This is where I found their remains, and buried what was left. Then I had a monument built to preserve the memory of them.

That was three years ago. I was exploring, because the beast tamer at the time was useless. He had said he saw the acromantulas moving toward a small valley in the forest. He was terrified of them, wanting to leave them alone, but I needed to find their old nest. So I followed the trail left behind back to the origin.

As I looked around the nest, the darkness tried to choke me, blind me. I pulled on the abilities that my father drilled into my head, the ability to shield my aura from darkness. After the darkness lost its effect on me, I could see the surroundings better. Besides the webs that stretched over everything, there were lots of piles of bones.

Most looked like animal bones, except for some in an alcove under a fallen tree. Those were definitely human bones. A horrible sense of foreboding came over me. There were two people I knew of that were killed by the acromantulas, and there were enough bones in that pile for two full-grown adults. Something glinted in the light that filtered through the canopy. I stepped comer to investigate.

When I see the metal on the bones, I lost all hope that these bones did not belong to the people I knew. The metal was two rings, one on the ring finger of the left hands; I recognized those rings. They were very identifiable because of how unique they were. The first thing unique was that the stones were emeralds, instead of the standard diamonds. The second was the designs. The woman's ring was a lily with the stem becoming the band, all of white gold and emerald stones*. The man's ring matched the woman's, with coordinating design, metal, and stones**. Those were the rings of James and Lily Potter, the people I thought of as my second set of parents.

I fell to my knees and let my grief out. I cried for them; they were too good of people to be killed like that. After what felt like hours, when my tears had dried up, I dug a hole in the middle of the nest, levitated their bones into it, and then covered the bones with the dirt. I kept the rings, safe in a lacquered box. When I got back to the manor, I commissioned a statue, styled after the door knocker on the cottage, to mark their grave.

As I dismount from my horse, I look to the statue. There I see James' kneeling form, arms wrapped around himself, his torso shaking as if sobbing. This puzzles me. I do not understand why he would have this reaction. James knows nothing of the Potters, except for the memories I shared; any person would feel saddened by the monument, but not enough to warrant such a violent response.

I walk over to him and lay my hand on his shoulder. It trembles under my hand. I put my other on the opposite shoulder, trying to massage the tension out of them. It does not help. "James?" I ask uncertainly.

He looks up at me, his eyes swimming with deep, heart-wrenching grief. That look smashes my resolve, and I drop to my knees as well, pulling him towards me. He buries his face in the crease between my neck and shoulder. Soon, the fabric there is soaked with his tears. I nub my hands up and down his back, offering comfort and support.

However, I am still very confused as to why this comfort is needed. The grief in James' eyes is similar to that of a child losing a parent. My mind is whirling, trying to make sense of the situation. Images start to pop in my head, memories long forgotten and over looked. A boy with inky black hair facing away from me, a man walking in front of me with hair as black as night. The stag and lily on the door of the cottage, the stag and lily tattooed in the heart on the muscular chest. The impish grin on the tanned face of child, the lecherous smile on the face of man with a five o'clock shadow. Emerald eyes filled with mischief, emerald eyes filled with determination.

My mind reels as image after image, memory after memory, are brought forth and compared. "James?" I say in a broken whisper, as more and more parallels are drawn between the two people. I feel him shake his head. With this denial, my heart freezes as though it is standing on a cliff overlooking an abyss. There is another name, but I have to force it out of my throat. "Harry?"

With the nod of his head, my heart seems to throw itself off the imagined cliff. With the nod of his head, my world comes crumbling down.

~Harry~

I know my secret is doomed the second Draco whispers 'James' so brokenly. I shake my head, because there is no hope for a lie told in this condition. When he forces out my real name, I try to steady myself as I nod my head. From this position, I can feel how he changes: how his hands stop, how his pulse slows, how his body turns rigid, how his breath is suspended.

The hands around me drop. I should take that as a signal to move away, but I am a coward and want to cling to his warmth for a little longer. However, when the hands go to my shoulders and push, I do not resist. Draco pushes me back until there is a good amount of distance between us. At first, I look down at my knees, too afraid to look into his eyes. But as the silence stretches on, I lift my glaze to face the product of my deceit.

His eyes burn with an icy fury. It seems to freeze me to my very core. But behind the fury, I can discern betrayal and hurt. The mask is on, leaving a face blank of expression on his face. It has been a few months since he has felt it necessary for the mask to be used. It breaks my heart to know that I caused it to return.

I lift up my hand to touch his cheek. "Draco," I breathe, "I am so –" My words break off as he slaps my hand away, launching himself up and out of my reach. He stops with his back turned to me, five feet from me. "Please, Draco," I try again, "Just let me expl-" I am cut off again.

"Get out," he says, barely above a whisper. I sit quietly, uncomprehending. "Leave." He turns to face me. "Get the bloody hell off my property, you son of a bitch!"

His wand is out now, pointing straight at my chest. I feel fresh tears running down my face. I nod and somehow manage to apparate from my seated position, a good thing since I am pretty sure my legs would not support my weight. I find myself on the floor of my room. I stay there for a minute or so, just letting everything sink in.

Draco knows. I have hurt him. Draco wants me gone. I need to leave, to pack. With that, I drag my trunk out from under the bed. Then I just start magically throwing everything in it. There is no order to it; things just go in how ever they please. In just a few moments, everything is packed away.

_Frost!_ I call out, looking for her. _Where are you? We need to leave, now._

_I'm coming_, answers a disembodied voice. Frost soon rounds the corner into the room. I hold out my hand for her to climb. She settles around my neck. _Why, pray tell, are we leaving in such a rapid mannor?_

I try to ignore her question, but I cannot when she starts tickling my neck with her tongue. _Oh alright, Draco knows. He knows I am Harry, and wants me gone._

_Oh_, is her only answer.

With that, I apparate to the first place that comes to mind.

~Draco~

"How dare he!" I yell as I storm through the manor, furiously wiping the tears away. I need to get to the north wing. I need to be somewhere I can destroy things. I need to bury my hurt in destruction. "How dare he have the audacity to pretend to be someone else, to lie to me! Did he think I wouldn't care about him? Merlin, he was my best friend, my only best friend. How could I not care about him? And why did he never write to me? Was I not as important to him as he was to me? Did I not deserve at least some explanation? Something after all these years?"

By now, I am in the north wing. I just start blasting things, indiscriminately firing spell after spell. I lose myself in the cathartic violence of it all. By the time I have worked all my energy off, it is night and most of the first floor of the wing is destroyed. I breathe in, gathering my thoughts. I walk back towards the south wing, my wing. I leave the damage behind; the elves will fix it, just like they always do.

I collapse onto my bed, staring at the canopy. I wonder what I should do. My mind wants me to push thoughts of James (now Harry) away and move one. However, my heart rebels against that and wants me to go find him. It wants to face him, demand answers if necessary, and then never let him go again. It argues that I should not let him leave again, just when I got him back. I am torn between following my heart and listening to my common sense.

Finally, I decide to go with my heart. Normally, my heart does not have opinions, because it is always hiding from the world. But now that it does, I know that I should listen to it.

So I apparate to the porch of the cottage. I can guess he is not here, because I basically banished him this morning. But I can hope that he will still be here, giving me time to come stop him from leaving. Those hopes start to crumble when I find the door unlocked. As I step inside, my heart squeezes. There is no sign of James/Harry anywhere: the pile of shoes is not there, the quilt is gone, the firebolt is missing. When I enter his room, I fall to my knees, all my hope evaporating. Everything is bare, empty, like there was never someone there. No quilt on the bed, no clothes in the closet, no toiletries in the bathroom. He is gone; the man I love is no longer here.

I tilt my head back as the tears start again. "Now what should I do?"

~Harry~

I land in a field of tall grass. Off to the side, I can see a large house. I make my way towards it. On the way, I can to gather my thoughts, try to figure out how to explain what I did. It seems like such a lost cause. I have no idea how to explain. I just want comfort. I apparated to the only place I knew I would find it, where I would be given it unconditionally.

I climb the stairs, and wait for a minute at the door. It still has the mural of a moon*** on it that I helped paint as a child. Hesitantly, I raise my hand to the knocker. With a last boost of courage, I knock on the door. For a few minutes, there is no movement behind the door, but then it opens. Standing in the doorway is a middle aged man, his mousy brown hair heavily streaked with gray, deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. The man tilts his head to the side, whispering "Harry?"

I nod, tears starting to fall down my cheeks. "Moony, I made a horrible mistake." Then I rush to close the distance between us, receiving the comfort I desperately needed, from the arms of my adoptive father. He pulls me inside, shutting the world out as he closes the door after us. I continue to cling to him, crying on his shoulder.

He runs one hand through my hair while the other rubs circles on my back. He kisses the top of my head, making soft, comforting noises all the while. After a final kiss to my hair, he pulls away far enough to look into my eyes. "Now," he says, "tell me what happened."

And I do, down to the every last detail.

*Lily's ring (with emeralds instead of diamonds): www. designfinejewelry wp-content/ uploads/ 2012/ 07/ Silver- Calla- Lily- Diamond- Ring. jpg (remove the spaces)

**James' ring (again, with emeralds): weddingseason wp- content/ uploads/ 2012/ 06/ wedding- ring- for- men. jpg (remove the spaces)

***Moon mural: i6. photobucket albums/ y250/ PhotozOnline/ MoonMural. Jpg (remove the spaces)

**Author's Note (again): **there is still a poll on my profile about how I should end this story. Please vote because I cannot decide between which ending I want to publish. Thank you!


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